


To Dream of Spiders

by Morte_Sangriz



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Clem isn't sure if Kurapika is a girl or not, Clementine needs to make better decisions, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gon is so damn cute, Hanzo likes talking, Hisoka is a psychopath, Killua is adorable, Leorio is the mom friend, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Slow Build, Slow Burn, lovable idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2018-10-09 05:35:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 88,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10405050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morte_Sangriz/pseuds/Morte_Sangriz
Summary: Clementine's goal is to pass the Hunter Exams and earn a Hunter's License; she has it all planned out. She's going to pass, maybe collect a few bounties every once in a while, and go back to life as she knows it. But when the 287th Exams lead to her meeting a variety of fascinating people, she'll find that things aren't as simple as she thought they were; and that sometimes the things that are unexpected can be the most precious.((Or the one in which Clementine finds herself in various shitty situations; makes friends with cute children; gains the interest of a magician (which isn't as good as it sounds); and tries not to die as the plot progresses. ))





	1. Clementine and the Night Before Departure

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [To Find What Is Missing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3906163) by [RedVoid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedVoid/pseuds/RedVoid). 



> So I've been working on this story for an agonizingly long time, and finally decided to post it before I changed the entire thing again. 
> 
> It will most likely take a while to get going, but rest assured that Clementine will keep you all entertained until all shit hits the fan. 
> 
> Thank you for giving this a chance, and if you enjoyed reading it, please leave a comment and kudos.

_Her heart is pounding, it hammers in her ears; it feels as if it is going to tear right out her chest and onto the cobbled streets. The city around her is silent; as if someone has hit the mute button, and she is the only one who can make a sound. It fills her with fear, this unnatural quiet in a city so immense- in a city that is never supposed to fall asleep. Her footsteps echo in the vacant streets as she anxiously walks toward the gleaming spire at the center of the town. Not knowing why, she walks on- feeling in her gut that if she doesn’t reach the tower in time something horrendous will befall her. The alley opens up to a courtyard and suddenly she can see what is wrong with tonight. She sees blood leaking from carnage and pooling in puddles on the streets. She sees fire dancing in the reddened skyline of the city, sees it feeding on charred bodies and blackened buildings._

  _She has never seen that much flame and death. She has never seen that much red._

  _The air reeks of urine and smoke. This is what death smells like- pungently sweet and sickening, she realizes in shock. Trembling arms wrapped around herself, she takes a shuddering breath to calm down and lets out a choked sob instead. Shaky legs inch forward and she pushes through her terror to keep her body moving. With every person that lays dead around her, every bloody footprint she leaves in her wake, something inside her cracks and splinters- embedding itself deep in her bones. She’s hyperventilating with every step she takes, choking down gulps of oxygen and gagging on the metallic taste that is dragged into her mouth with every gasp of air. Her knees hit the ground with a thud as she heaves her stomach’s contents onto the stained streets of York New._

 " _It’s beautiful,” someone breathes out,“like art.”_

  _She scurries to her feet in a panic; the dread inside her whispering that she is caught in a spider’s web and that she has no hope of getting away._

  _“Depending on how you interpret things, it can be something else you know.” They taunt as they approach her.  She pushes her hysteria down and distracts herself by reading a poster that has fallen to the ground ahead of her._ _‘AUCTION INSPIRED TEN-DAY SALE’_ _it says across the top in bold letters._

  _The stranger- a man, she absentmindedly notes-  embraces her and moves his head so his chin rests on her head. Blood seeps into her clothing from where they are pressed against each other and he shifts so his mouth is next to her ear. “If you listen really closely, you can hear the singing,” He murmurs quietly, as if worried someone might overhear him. “The dead are singing.”_

 " _You’re insane.” She spits back at him. He ignores her insult._

  _Cold steel presses firmly into her throat and he whispers a final thing to her. “I’d like to hear you sing a Requiem for me too.”_  

* * *

 

 Clementine sits up with a gasp. _Just a nightmare,_ she thinks and takes a moment to calm down her frantic breathing and racing pulse. She pulls a small notepad and pen from inside her pillowcase and dutifully writes down details from her dream while it’s fresh in her mind. She tiredly rubs her eyes and lets out a loud yawn. Blearily squinting at the clock by her bedside she lets out a long-suffering groan at the 4:33am that looks back at her. Not even the sun is awake, it’s the moon’s turn to rule the sky and it lazily hangs outside, bathing the apartment building with its silver light. It leaks through her thin curtains, scattering upon the floor and ceiling in an indiscernible pattern that she slowly traces with her gaze. Clementine yawns again and sluggishly sets the notepad aside, a chill lingering on her skin as the sheets remain pooled around her waist.

 "I’ll go shower in a bit-” she declares to the empty room, wrinkling her nose before adding with a cringe, “-and brush my teeth while I’m at it.”

 She untangles herself from the blankets and shivers as her bare feet meet the wood floor. Making her way across dimly lit room, Clem nudges the bathroom door open and flicks on the light. Her brown eyes narrowing at the sudden brightness.

 The grumble her stomach makes bounces off the bathroom walls and she pats it good-naturedly. “I'm starving,” she announces to the empty bathroom and turns on the shower.

 Clementine takes her time in the bath and steps out of the tub with a satisfied sigh when she's done. Wrapping herself in a fluffy towel and wandering out of the steamy bathroom; she makes her way into the kitchen, picks up her phone from the counter and dials the number to the only restaurant she knows that's open at 5am. Clem orders and hunts down her wallet, counting out the Jenny she’ll owe before setting the money on the kitchen counter. Shuffling back to her room, Clementine rummages through messy drawers for clean clothes. She pulls a black hoodie over a white shirt, tugs on a pair of sweats and stuffs her feet in mismatching socks.

 The doorbell rings, and Clem rushes to the door. The person outside knocks on the wood without a moment of rest and Clementine reaches for the doorknob. She’s on the verge of turning it when a thought rears its head. She pauses and thinks for a moment.

 There’s no way that her food is already here, she orders enough takeout to know that it takes more than 10 minutes for the food to be ready _much less_ delivered. She stands on her tiptoes and peeks through the peephole suspiciously. Martha’s scowling profile greets her through the glass and Clementine makes a face.

 “Martha, why are you at my door at 5 in the morning?” she asks.

 Her co-worker glares at the peeling paint of the door as if she can burn it down with her eyes alone, “Just open the damn door, Clementine.I need to talk to you and it's hard to do that if I'm stuck out here in your crappy hallway.”

 Clem lets the fuming woman in and hastily retreats into her kitchen, telling Martha over her shoulder that “she better have a fucking good reason for bothering her on her day off and would she like tea or coffee while she’s here?”

 Martha's lips twitch and she tries to maintain her serious demeanor. “Coffee. And don't be rude, Orange-girl, heaven knows where you’d be without me.” Clem snorts. Martha ignores her and continues, “I need you to do me a favor and cover my shift today and tomorrow. I got a call from my cousin last night and long story short- I have a funeral to attend.”

 Clem spins to look at her and her face is one of shock and concern. Martha waves her off with a roll of her eyes. “Relax Orange-girl, a great aunt of mine finally kicked the bucket. I wasn't close to her or anything but I gotta go to claim the inheritance I've always deserved.” Clem visibly relaxes with a grin. “Awww, Clem was actually worried ‘bout little ol’ me-” Martha sings, “-I'm quite touched that you actually care about my well-being, Orange-girl. But considering who I am, I’d be shocked if you didn't.”

 "You're a narcissist, Martha.”

 Martha walks into the kitchen and looks around with undisguised curiosity. “This is your apartment then? How… quaint.” She teases and barely ducks fast enough to dodge the soggy teabag aimed at her face.

 “Don't be a dick, Martha.” Clem says evenly and pulls out two mugs from a cabinet. “And you wonder why I've never invited you over. Red or Blue mug?”

 “I just assumed you lived in one of those little huts inside the junkyard.” Martha retorts, “Why are you even asking me- obviously I want red. It's the only color bold and sexy enough allowed to touch this mouth.” She smiles at Clem's amused chuckle and wanders out the into living room. She eyes the bookcases spanning the walls and moves to get a closer look at the items atop of them.

 “Why do you have all these books? And what the hell is this random shit you have out here?”

 “Martha, with your IQ being what it is you may not know this, but usually when people have books in their home- it's because they read them.”

 “Oh Clem, I didn't know you could read!” The blonde woman exclaims in mock surprise. She picks up a heavy tome from the shelf and squints at the cover, flipping to a random page in curiousity. She reads a sentence, closes her eyes and slams the book shut. “Why in the _hell_ do you have a book about magical children and their talking animal friends?! _Fillory and Further_? Where did you even get a book like this from?” Martha places the book back where it was and feels her blue eyes widen in horrified fascination as another object catches her attention.

 “My dad brought it back from the Kakin Kingdom a few years back.” Clementine says nonchalantly as she walks into the living room with two steaming mugs in her hands. “A town there is pretty big on magic and folklore so he brought me a cool souvenir when he came back.” She sets the mugs down on the coffee table and gestures to the shrunken head Martha is enraptured by, “That’s a real head by the way, I wouldn’t suggest messing with it unless you’re up to have your ass cursed by it accidentally.”

 Martha quickly backpedals from the wrinkled item, nearly tripping as her foot gets caught on a rug near the bookcase. Despite Clem’s best attempts to muffle the sound, a loud cackle escapes her and Martha spins around with crossed arms. “A HEAD!?” She shouts indignantly, “ _WHERE DID YOU GET A HEAD!?”_ She stomps to the couch and throws herself onto it with a huff, flipping Clem off as her laughter grows louder.

 Arms holding her sides as she struggles to stop laughing, Clem breathlessly replies, “My mom gave me the head as a birthday gift when I was twelve. She told me if I didn’t go to school my head would shrivel up and end up looking like that one. I was scared to skip school for years after that.”

 The doorbell rings and Clem frowns a bit. “Damn, I was hoping you’d be gone by the time my food got here so I wouldn’t have to share.” She gets up and walks to the front door, scooping the counted out money off the kitchen counter and letting out a sad sigh as she reaches for the door handle. She’s already mourning the food Martha will most likely steal from her.

  _“_ I knew I should've just kicked her out. I shouldn't have offered her that damn coffee.” She grumbles to the door and pulls it open, giving the cash to the cranky-looking delivery-man and maneuvering the front door shut with arms full of takeout.  

 “Oi, you blonde bimbo! Come and help me with these boxes if you want to eat.”

 Martha’s head pops from around the corner. “You ordered food Clem?”

 Clementine rolls her eyes, “No Martha, I like holding empty take-out containers whenever I’m hungry.” Shifting the styrofoam boxes in her arms, she walks to the living room, shooting her air-headed friend an amused glance at the bewilderment on her face.

 “It’s a good thing you’re not ugly Martha.” She says, setting down the food and flopping onto the loveseat gracefully.

 Martha’s glare is frigid. “At least I’m the nice looking one in this relationship, Orange-girl. I don’t even need a brain with a body like this! Anyway, my blimp leaves at 6:30, so tell me if you can cover for me or not.”

“Fine, I’ll do it. But you’re lucky it doesn’t interfere with my plans.” Clem says; the scent of pasta wafting out of a box as she pulls one onto her lap. 

“You’re a lifesaver, Orange. I’ll let you know whether or not I inherit everything the old bat left behind. I mean- yeah, sure- my cousins are her children, but how could _anyone_ die and not leave me all their fancy crap?” Blue eyes appraisingly skim the room. “And Clem? That means that you have to write me into your will later and leave me all your nice furniture for when you die in that weird exam you’re signing up for.”

 Clem sighs, “Yeah sure, Martha, in the very unlikely possibility that I die during the Hunter Exams, you can keep all my _fancy_ furniture. Make sure that I leave you that shrunken head in my will. I’d hate for you to get lonely if I die” She stirs the food on her lap calmly and suddenly snaps her head up to look at the blonde woman on her couch. “Wait, Martha. Actually, how in the hell do you know where I live? ”

* * *

 

The casino is bustling with activity by the time she arrives. Guest weave in and out of the gambling area while slot-machines fill the massive room with spinning clinks. Blackjack tables line expanse of the gambling hall as casino workers call out to the passing people to play a round of cards for a chance to hit the jackpot. Hidden lights are angled to strike the crystalline chandeliers hanging low from the ceiling and the stained glass covering the expanse of the ceiling; the beams of light split into small patches of rainbow color all over the room. It makes for an interesting atmosphere, Clem notes and thinks that if she weren’t an employee, she would also be entranced by the shifting lights. She strides to a worker’s entrance and types in the pin into the keypad, pulling the door open when the small light turns green with a beep.

 The employee’s side of the hotel isn’t as effervescent as the guest side, but that isn’t to say that it doesn’t have it’s own energy. This is the inside of the casino, with the life of the business making it’s way in and out of the lavish doors. Here, workers scurry through the arched halls with one-minded focus, each having a place to get to and no time to bother with much else. It’s a fast-paced and energy consuming workplace; one which tests its employees every day in patience, skill, and drive.

There are six main offices in the hotel, all separated into different lounges by department and size. The largest of the six is the housekeeping department, which is responsible for the cleaning of each hotel room and the stocking of necessary accommodations for every guest. The custodian department is the second largest- responsible for the sanitation of the casino as a whole. The significantly smaller but equally important department of casino workers and waitresses makes up the third department; and while every department is vital to the smooth function of the casino- it is this third department which makes up the life of the business. The other departments are made up by the department of security; the department of human resources; and the department of business management; which tend to be part of the majorly overlooked offices. Regardless of this fact, all departments are necessary for the hotel to run efficiently and successfully.

Clementine herself is on her way to the third department; the department that both she and Martha fall under jurisdiction of. She cheerfully waves at the bustling co-workers that rush past her, grinning at the manager that blinks in confusion and falls into step besides her.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you or anything Clementine, but today’s your day off. Whatcha doing here?” Amara asks, heels softly clicking on the linoleum tiles. “Last time I checked, you were against coming anywhere near this place if you didn’t have to.”

“Well, you know Martha. She didn’t bother to try to find another replacement before she asked me to cover for her. I’m still not sure how she figured out where I lived.” Clem pushes the doors to the employee locker rooms open and they both step inside. “So I guess you could say I’m here since I’ve got nothing better to do.” She scrutinizes Amara curiously. “What are you doing in this side of the Third anyway, Amara? This is the waitress’s side, you know. You’re supposed to be managing the other side.”

Thin lips purse and Amara lets out an aggravated sound, running her manicured fingers through burgundy hair. “I’m here because _our dear_ Lareen wanted to have a discussion about how ‘impressed’ she is with how the card dealers are dealing with the budget cuts; which I actually think is a whole bunch of bullshit, and an excuse for her Royal Bitchiness to brag about her half of the department’s new funding.” Amara huffs as they walk towards the waitressing manager’s office. “As if we’re less important that those skanks just because we refuse to alter our uniforms to show our freaking ovaries when we bend over.”

Clementine laughs and pokes Amara in the arm. “Now, don’t let Lareen catch you talking like that, or she’ll call a board meeting to complain about how ‘unprofessional’ the other half of the Third is being. Again.” She shakes her head, “And don’t insult the waitress uniform, I’m gonna be wearing it for today and tomorrow.”

When they reach finally reach Lareen’s office- they’re both greeted by her unfriendly sneer. Clementine rolls her eyes at the waves of animosity rolling of the greasy haired manager and Amara, scrawling her name in the emergency shift sheet on the desk. She snatches a uniform from the rack besides Lareen and flees the office in a hurry; slumping on the closed door in relief as shouting erupts from the room behind her. _That was close,_ she thinks and lets out a dry chuckle. She pities whoever manages to come between Amara and Lareen during one of their famous ‘discussions’, especially considering the entire third department can always hear what the argument is about despite the shut door. Clementine heads to the restroom to change into the waitress attire, snickering as Amara calls Lareen ‘a useless cockroach’ and the insult resounds through the third department.

 

(Clem gets through that first day without much trouble. It’s nearing the end of that second day where things begin to go wrong.)

* * *

 

“What ya’ mean no, sweetheart? Don’ be like that.” The drunk man purrs, giving the skirt in his grip a sharp tug. “We can have all sorts of fun.”

 “I’m not your sweetheart.” Clementine hisses at the man. “Now get your hands off my uniform before I break them.” The serving tray in her hands trembles in her anger, the drinks atop it sloshing and dribbling over the rim of the mugs they’re served in.

 He leers at her, “What a damn firecracker.” He looks at his companions with a grin, “Makes you wonder how good she’ll be in bed, doesn’t it?”

 Clementine’s patience snaps, and through the fog of rage she hears Lareen screaming out her name in a shrill voice. Clem snaps her attention from the cowering man on the floor, leaving him in a puddle of broken glass and alcohol before turning to meet Lareen’s eyes dead on.

 “Well it looks like my shift ended five minutes ago.” She comments in a mild voice after glancing down at her wristwatch. “It’s a pity this incident happened when I was off duty because now I can’t get in trouble for it, right Lareen?”

 Lareen nearly goes cross-eyed in her anger. “CLEMENTINE, IN MY OFFICE NOW!!!”

 

Clementine sighs and ambles towards the third department. “Yes, your _Royal Bitchiness.”_

* * *

 

Across the street from the extravagant York-New York-New Hotel and Casino, stands a small but popular tavern. Luther's Tavern is known to the locals as a place with great service, friendly staff, and an extraordinary selection of drinks from all over the Republic of Padokea. The owner, Luther Daniels, is man with a strong passion for his business. One of the things people appreciate about Luther's Tavern is the fact that the owner is willing to serve customers himself; it is said that he never turns anyone away, as he is firmly set in his belief that everyone deserves a good drink no matter their circumstances. It’s for this reason that the building is always filled with a mixed crowd of people from all over the country.

 Clementine is currently moping on the black marble countertops at the famed Luther's Tavern. She's talking (read: _bitching)_ to the bartender about her shitty day with Lareen, speaking loud enough to be heard over the soft hum of classical music playing in the background. “Who does she think she is!? ‘ _I’m going to have to report this, Clementine’”_ She angrily mocks. “ _I'm disappointed in your customer service, Clementine. We don’t threaten bodily harm or throw drinks at customers just because we feel ‘personally attacked’, Clementine. ”_

 Her waitress uniform is rumpled from where the handsy man grabbed it earlier and there are stains where alcohol splashed on her after she threw the tray of drinks at his face. She sighs and turns sad eyes to Mike the bartender. “There’s a reason I’m not a cocktail waitress you know, I’m not made to deal with stupid people. It was my day off today too and this was just a favor for this bimbo friend of mine-”

“Clem, we've been over this- for the hundredth time, you can't just loiter in my bar without buying anything whenever you have a bad day.” He interrupts without preamble.

The brunette cocks a brow at him. “Sure I can, Mike. Look- I'm doing it right now.” She drawls in amusement. “Plus, considering the bouncers keep letting me in I'm guessing you don't mind my visits as much as you say you do.”

“Y-You don't even come in through the front like a _normal_ person! If you did you’d _know_ that all of security has a picture of _your_ face so they know who to _keep out of my bar.”_ He yells indignantly.

Clem frowns at Mike. “Not that I'm not flattered or anything, but _how_ did you get a picture of me? Wait, no way! Mike, are you-” She looks around nervously and leans close to him to whisper. “Are you _stalking_ me?”

The bald man is red in the face as he splutters out a reply. “O-o-of all people w-why in the _hell_ would I decide to stalk _you_ , you damn she-demon!? You're the one who loiters in my bar when I've told you _millions of times_ that _YOU'RE BANNED FROM HERE, CLEMENTINE_.”

“Aww, don't be like that Mike.” Clem says. “I came to see you to tell you that I was going on a trip soon and wouldn’t be around for a while. Besides, is it still considered loitering if I'm here to see a friend?”

“WE'RE NOT FRIENDS! AND I HOPE YOU DON’T COME BACK ANYTIME SOON!” Mike shouts in despair.

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Umm, Mike, I'm _pretty_ damn sure I can tell when someone is my friend or not. Why in the world would I come visit you if you didn't like me anyway?”

Mike mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like “to my make my life a living hell” and storms away from her. Clem stifles a grin and spins around on the stool. Her back presses against the counter, and her eyes flit across the patrons of the bar.

She has always found it a source of comfort to see people absorbed in their private world and go about their business. There are millions of events that led for these strangers to be assembled in one place, thousands of reasons for these people to stumble into the same place as her. Everyone is a walking mesh of stars living a life of their own.  

Clem thinks it's a beautiful thing.

She watches as a group of five men toast to a new job; as the table trembles from their laughter and creaks with mirth of it’s own. She observes as a near the door a woman hides her woes behind a mug of ale; as the man sitting on the stool next to her chokes down sobs as he nurses a still full cup. She peers curiously at the people sitting apart from the rest of the crowd in the tavern; people with loneliness so heavy she almost tastes it.

 Clementine is content in simply seeing and wondering how these people made of stardust happened to come together in one place. Her attention dances between the forlorn and the delighted; between the groups of friends and the loners in seclusion; when suddenly an anomaly catches and reels in her interest. The anomaly comes in the form of a man with the aura of a predator, and even without her mother’s warnings of trusting her instincts when it came to strangers- Clem would have known there was something dangerous about him.

 He isn’t doing anything particularly spectacular. He seems comfortable in his solitude. An untouched drink sits before him as he nimbly adds a third tier to a house of cards on the table. Crimson hair is gelled back into careful spikes, the porcelain of the man's skin nearly glowing in contrast to the vibrant color of his hair. His lips are quirked in a private smile and Clementine can’t help but be intrigued by how it does nothing to lessen the waves of danger he radiates. An azure teardrop is drawn on his left cheek- the side currently facing her- and the outfit he’s in reminds Clem of a jester.

 She can tell he’s someone with more mysteries to him than answers- a man made of puzzle pieces that may not fit together to form a full picture of what he is.

Clem watches him for a moment longer and wonders what kind of man he is; the question buzzing in her head as she turns away and waves Mike down for a drink.

“Give me your strongest whiskey,” Clementine tells him, pushing the jester out of her mind and resting her chin on the palm of her right hand. “I want to end my last night in this city with a bang.”

 

(She misses the vibrant amber eyes that flicker to her curiously a second after she turns away; misses the way a clawed finger taps against curled lips thoughtfully at her reaction to his presence- it’s not often a prey notices the predator before it’s too late, after all. Clementine does not notice the way the beast in him snaps awake and _stirs_ at her drunken display of violence half bottle of whiskey later; nor how it _howls_ at her brazen actions before she manages to slip away in the chaos she created.

 Later in the darkness of an alley- when the blood drips from the edges of his cards onto the dirtied ground where the body of a stranger lays deathly still- he thinks about what the girl could grow into if given the chance, and whether she is worth giving that chance to.

 And when answer comes to him at last; Hisoka and the beast turn to the waning moon and _smile._ )

 


	2. Clementine and the Journey to the Exams (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which bald men are good conversationalists; trains aren't as nice as kid's shows make them seem; and Clementine is just the slightest bit hungover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to cut the journey to the exams into two chapters for the sake of convenience, and it's made my life like 3000% easier. 
> 
> (And before anyone gets on my ass for whatever errors there are in the story, I'll make it clear now that I'm lacking a beta-reader and would love for someone to volunteer for the position.)

Of all the questionable things she’s had the ability to brag about doing- Clementine has never had the honor of being able to _honestly_ say that she’s been in a bar fight; or that she’s instigated a full on _battle royale_ at said bar; nor that she can’t remember exactly how bad things got before she managed to stumble home. After what (little) she recalls from last night’s fiasco, Clem thinks that the honor of having those bragging rights should go to her; if not for how badass she must have been in whatever fight she’d gotten into, then simply to make up for the _god-awful throbbing_ in her skull. Honestly, she isn’t quite sure if her headache is due to the copious amount of alcohol she consumed; or if someone got in a good hit to her temple that she didn’t notice until she woke up that morning _feeling_ it.

In hindsight, maybe getting drunk the night before she was supposed to leave York New for the Hunter Exams wasn’t her brightest idea; but Clementine has never been one to follow her impulsive whims, and she has to admit- it feels good to cut loose every once in awhile. It doesn’t feel pleasant to have to hide her currently photosensitive eyes behind shades that swallow most of her face though, and Clem isn't all too pleased that all she wants to do is to sleep her hangover off when she has better things to do- like, she doesn’t know, maybe _take_ the freakin’ _Hunter Exams_ ? She heaves a weary sigh and swallows two painkillers dry; sending up a hopeful prayer that they'll kick in before she has to do anything _too_ strenuous.

On the brightside, one of the perks to living in one of the busiest cities in the world is that as a resident, the fare for transportation is significantly reduced than what a tourist would pay. The only downside to that is that inner York New traffic is _hell_ (it can be faster to walk sometimes than to take the buses anywhere, not to mention the _cabs_ ) and though the railways are exempt from traffic, they're pretty much useless unless one is planning on travelling to the opposite side of the city or out of it. Lucky for Clementine- according to her enrollment confirmation letter from the Hunter Association- she’s supposed to take Railway 44 straight out of the city.

Visitors to York New always find that making time to visit the train station is well worth it. With a barrel vaulted glass ceiling streaming rays of golden sunlight into the building; small, world-renowned cafés filling the station with the aromatic perfume of fresh coffee; and trains that travel all over the Yorbian Continent- it's no surprise that Grand Central Station is such a popular tourism hub. Despite its enormous size, Clem knows it like the back of her hand; the ingrained habit of memorizing her surrounding that her mother drilled into her never fully fading even after months of disuse.

She finds the ticket booth tucked into a corner after a second of searching; the soles of her boots thumping softly against the concrete as she marches towards the ticketmaster.

“Hello Mr. Ticket-Sales-Agent,” she chirps amiably; shoving up the sunglasses slipping down her nose with a finger, “My name is Clementine Zee-Amõs, and I’d like to buy a ticket for the 8:30 A.M. departure of the 44th Railway Express.”

“You’re entering the Hunter Exams then,” the worker acknowledges with a smile and asks for her York New ID. He enters her information into the softly thrumming computer besides him, “The residency discount brings down your bill from 4,500 Jenny down to 2,500 Jenny. Will that be paid in cash or credit?”

She answers by pulling out rumpled bills; tucking the change and ticket he hands back to her securely into her wallet. “Thank you!”

She turns to face the crowd of examinees loitering on Platform 44 and scans them with a careful eye. There aren’t many people who catch her attention, no one who stands out to her as exceptionally strong (not like _that_ man did). And while Clem knows that underestimating an opponent is the best way to get herself killed- she can’t help but think that of the competitors that _do_ stand out to her, they seem laughably weak compared to _(the anomaly)_ others she’s met.

With an unimpressed huff, Clementine hefts her bag over her shoulder and winces. There are bruises blooming on the skin of her knuckles; violet blotches framing angry red gashes cut in the shape of someone's teeth. She really should disinfect and bandage her hands, Clem thinks and internally shudders. She can _hear_ the lecture her mother would give her on how the human mouth is teeming with bacteria; and that next time Clementine punches someone in the mouth she better do it _exactly_ like she was taught or she’ll understand why people fear her mother so much- though it’s not like her mother needs any more reason to be terrifying.

(Clem honestly wonders how it was that her pushover of a father managed to tie the knot with her Spartan of a mother without losing any limbs in the process.)

Clem just hopes that it’s not too late to avoid an infection- one of those would get her the talking down of a lifetime from _both_ her parents. She sets her bag on an empty bench besides the ticket booth and unfastens the black flaps on her backpack. Rooting through the surplus of ‘supplies’ she packed in case of emergency for her first-aid kit; she sighs in relief when she finally finds it buried under packets of emergency food- fully stocked with plenty of iodine and rolls of gauze.

Personally, she's never had much interest in studying medicine. She knows it would be helpful for her to be able to patch herself up, but the years of schooling and dedication needed for it puts her off. At the moment though- as she dumps iodine on her injured knuckles and clumsily wraps them in gauze- Clem can't help but wish her medical knowledge extended beyond ‘in case of injury pour disinfectant on wound, wrap wound in clean cloth, and pray that nothing rots off’.

Maybe she’ll get lucky enough to meet someone with actual medical knowledge during the exams and convince them to teach her a thing or two.

“How many of these people do you think will actually pass the preliminaries, do you think?” She asks the worker; eyeing the handful of examinees she thinks stand a chance of making it through the exams. “Most people who register for the exams don’t even make it to the testing grounds, but who here do you think will make it there?”

The ticket agent glances at her curiously before humming in consideration; casting an assessing look at the candidates in question before leaning over the counter and saying in a conspiratorial whisper. “ Personally, I think that only a handful of these participants will make it, but I think you already have an idea of who those people may be.” He comments mildly and his eyes flicker to the bald martial artist speaking animatedly to the people around him.

Clementine wonders if any of these examinees know that the preliminary tests will cut down their ranks by more than half; and that most of them won’t even make it to where the Hunter exams are to take place. A part of her revels in the knowledge that she’ll show those floaty armed muscle heads that she’s a fully capable woman when she earns a Hunter License and they don't even manage to pass the prelims.

“Aww,” Clem whines and throws a pout his way. “Can you at least tell me who else is on your list? And hey! Am I included in it? Do you think I’ll make it to the exams?”

The man laughs at her childish display, “I know you will, ma’am,” he replies good-naturely.

A train whistle blares in the distance and the ticket master sits back in his seat, “Ma’am, if I may,” he begins slowly, as if weighing the pros and cons of saying what's on his mind.

He seems to come to a decision because he tells Clementine wryly, “The preliminaries are usually meant to weed out those who are far too weak to even entertain the idea of being Hunters; meaning what will ultimately get you through these pre-exam trials is perseverance and quick thinking- both of which I am sure you are fully capable of ma’am.”

“If I can't do that much, then I’d make a shitty excuse of a Hunter wouldn't I?” A steely glint hardens in eyes behind darkened glasses as she packs away her first-aid kit; waves of determination rolling off her as she sets the black backpack on her shoulder. “Plus,” She adds as an afterthought, “My mother would skin me alive if she found out I entered the exams only to fail them before they even started.”

“Some friendly advice for you then, ma’am, since I like that first answer quite a bit,” His fingertips drum out a steady beat on the checked tiles of the counter. “When that train gets to the platform _do_ _not_ wait for it to stop.”

Clem snaps to stare at him.

The conductor’s cheerful voice tinkles through the station’s P.A. system, “Examinees for the 287th Hunter Exams- please find your way onto the train in a neat and orderly fashion. Those unable to board the train will automatically fail the Exams.”

Her baffled gaze drifts to the examinees flocking at the edge of the platform and her eyes widen in realization, “You don't mean-”

“I mean exactly that,” the ticket master affirms, a cheeky grin stretching across his face,“Good luck _catching_ the train, ma’am.”

The railway tracks tremble from the speed of the approaching locomotive; the piercing shriek of the train’s horn cutting through the air as the 500 ton behemoth barrels towards the station. Clem snaps out of her shock and breaks into a sprint. She bulldozes her way through the crowd of examinees; ruthlessly shoving them aside to reach the boarding platform.

Moments later the 44th Railway Express enters the station and she bursts out of the bewildered crowd.

The train does not stop and neither does Clem.

She runs harder than before and- without a second thought- jumps off the platform and onto the tracks below.

Clementine knows what it’s like to fly for a total of five seconds before realization backhands her straight into reality; she tucks into herself and rolls to absorb the jolt of hitting the ground, kicking off into a run and praying she doesn’t trip on the tracks.

There’s a handful of examinees that have the same idea as she does. They immediately follow suit and agilely jump down besides her; all of them sprinting after the train with equal-minded ferocity.

Clem and the rest of the pursuing contestants share the same thought as they dash along the train tracks: _I will get on that train._

* * *

 

 

The participants who don’t make chase loiter anxiously on the platform; watching the group of examinees rush off into the distance and growing quite unsure of what to do with themselves.

“What idiots,” a burly man loudly proclaims, “They’re really going to try to chase down a train when it’s easier to wait for the next one?” He scoffs and turns with crossed arms. “The guy over the PTA didn’t say that it had to be _that_ train.” After a pause he confidently states,  “If they couldn’t figure that out then it proves they’re not Hunter material.”

“Actually sir,” A pleasant voice chimes from behind the congregated examinees, cutting through the mounting uneasiness with ease, “I have to disagree with you, since only part of that statement is true.” The ticket salesman addresses his next words to the gossiping crowd of contestants besides the man. “For instance, the people who ran had the right idea. While it’s entirely true that it was not specified which train to board in order to reach the exam grounds; the instructions given were clear- as well as the consequences for not fulfilling them.” The attentive crowd falls silent at the ice seeping into the worker’s voice and shifts nervously. “I’ll take the time to simplify the instructions given for all of you to understand what you were meant to do.”

The ticket master smiles; the white flash of teeth belying the ruthlessness beneath his polite facade. “If you do not get aboard the train that just passed- you will not be able to take the exams.”

“The clock is ticking down quite quickly.” He adds cheerfully, ignoring the sputters of shock the examinees make with a sadistic glint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I suggest you all start running.”

* * *

 

Clementine isn’t surprised that she’s not the only one running after the train.

She _does_ find herself flabbergasted to learn that some people are in such amazing physical shape to effortlessly make conversation while chasing down a _freaking train_. Though she thinks that perhaps she would be more impressed if the person exhibiting the ability wasn’t busy using it to spew words at her in a nearly one-sided conversation.

The martial artist keeping her company seems like a pleasant guy- really, he does. The only problem is that he won’t stop _talking._ “Hey you, girl. Don’t tell anyone but I’m actually a ninja from the wonderful country of Jappon. I’m searching for a scroll I heard was hidden in a place only Hunters may access, so that’s why I’m taking this exam. I was shocked to see that the train didn’t stop, but it’s refreshing to see that only those truly committed to taking the exams decided to take the leap of faith and follow after the train. I'm sure that was done on purpose in order to allow us to independently make our way aboard. The art of ninjutsu has many teachings that use independence as a focal point in fact and during my own training I found myself in various situations like this; of course _much_ more challenging. Weakness isn’t worth training and in Jappon...”

Mr. Martial Artist (she didn't catch his name) has a way of making the endless chatter look effortless while he easily keeps pace with Clementine. She on the other hand, is equally focused on keeping her steps steady and thinking of a response to the mess of words that is spewed at her. Clementine was raised with _manners_ after all- regardless of how questionable that may seem at times- so she tosses a breathless smile the ninja’s way and sticks a bandaged hand out for him to shake.

“I'm Clementine, it’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Ninja.” She catches his callused hand in a firm grip and pumps it up and down enthusiastically, “Wow, this is pretty awesome! I’ve never met a ninja before.”

A thought strikes her a moment later: Aren’t ninjas supposed to be masters of secrecy and shadows or something? It’s Clementine’s luck that the first ninja she meets an extrovert, and not shy about flaunting his status as a ninja at all.

She shakes the thought out of her head with an internal shrug. It doesn’t really matter anyway. From what she can see; he hasn't even broken a sweat- because apparently chasing down a speeding train isn't much of a hassle for a trained ninja from Jappon.

She’s caught between a flare of pride- because hell yeah, she's totally keeping up with a ninja- and disappointment- because hell yeah, she’s totally keeping up with a ninja but only because he’s not running as fast as she's absolutely sure he can if he puts his mind to it. Even if her new friend seems to be the world’s least secretive ninja, it’s comforting to know that he has the ability to make up for his absolute lack of subtlety with raw skill.

It also serves as a sort of wake-up call for her. Clem hadn't put much thought into how strong she was compared to other people, but she has to admit- she doesn't much enjoy the knowledge that she's not as good as she thought she was. It's probably a sign that she _really_ ought stop avoiding the cardio and endurance exercises in her workouts. She absolutely abhors _anything_ cardio related (but she’s not sure if avoiding the cardio exercises is worth the risk to her health her mother poses if she learned of Clem’s half-assed training). If her mother were to catch wind that Clem has been neglecting her training, then she would create workouts so _hellish_ that Clem would be sore and immobile for _days._  She isn’t out of shape or anything- but compared to her chattering train-chasing companion, Clementine feels as if maybe she should step up her training when she has the chance… by a large amount.

(Clementine is determined to ask her new ninja friend for his training regimen and pray that it doesn’t involve anything _too_ insane for her to consider doing, like jumping off cliffs or hefting boulders over her head. Though even if his training involved said things, she would probably suck it up and try it out anyway if it meant she could become stronger.)

Her backpack thumps heavily against her back and Clementine breathes out a curse; earning a curious glance from her companion. “Ah, it’s nothing important,” she tells him with a wry smile, “My bag just feels like being completely infuriating right now and is smacking the hell out of me.” If she had known that being so prepared would turn out to be such a pain, then she would have stuffed less supplies into her bag- because twenty pounds of weight bouncing against her spine makes it difficult to appreciate the fact that she’s quickly approaching the train car.

“The struggle of a heavy bag I understand well.” The ninja sagely tells her with a nod of understanding. “During the early days of my ninjutsu training Sensei filled all my packs with weights, forbid me from removing them, and then threw me into the middle of a lake.”

“H-He did w-what now?” Clementine sputters, stumbling in shock and nearly tripping face-first onto the gravel between the railroad ties underfoot. “T-That’s insane!”

The ninja grabs her upper arm and steadies her before she falls, a glint of amusement dancing in the brown of his eyes. “It was good training,” he corrects and releases his hold on her, “I learned the importance of good lung capacity and how different running feels while underwater.” The skepticism in her expression must show clearly because he waves away her concern with a laugh. “Sensei had unorthodox methods of teaching, but I can attest firsthand to how rewarding his lessons were. I wouldn’t be the ninja I am today if it hadn’t been for him.”

The train car is within reach now and she sees a way on board. She nudges her companion softly, and wordlessly gestures to their key to getting on the train. With a shared grin, they lunge for the railing; Clementine letting out an exhilarated whoop as her fingers curl around the steel of the back railing. Her ninja companion does the same, albeit more gracefully, and they pull themselves onto the train car.

Clem is tempted to immediately enter the car, but settles on throwing herself onto the metal of the train floor and pressing her cheek to the cold ground. Her sunglasses are squashed against her nose, but Clementine is too busy appreciating the steel’s coolness to pay much attention to them. Sprawled out on the train floor with her limbs askew and face flushed from running, Clem is sure she looks exactly she feels. Which is to say absolutely horrendous, and just a tad bit overjoyed.

“So, you’re now my one and only ninja friend,” She declares cheerfully from her place on the ground, “And since I missed your name when you introduced yourself, I think now would be a great time to tell it to me again.”

The bald ninja leans against the wall with a good-natured smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Clementine. My name is Hanzo, and I’m a ninja from Jappon.”

“Jappon, huh?” She mutters, shifting into an upright position. “You’re a long way from home, Hanzo.” She scans Hanzo intently, eyeing the angles of his face and comparing them to the faces she has memorized from her mother's black book.

Clementine is ever the optimist, and tries to befriend almost everyone she encounters. She's not particularly picky with who she makes friends with, and even if Hanzo’s picture had been on the worn pages of her mother's hit-list Clementine would have remained his friend if he wasn't harming anyone. She's one of those fools who believe in the endlessly shifting state of human nature, and that no one is intrinsically evil.

(It is this belief of hers that proves that in the end- despite the fact she is her mother’s child- she is not her mother. She is not the ruthless Blacklist Hunter whose name has always been whispered in reverence in the halls of her schools, nor the unforgiving woman who captures every person whose name appears on her list, without fail. And while caution is something her mother taught her well; the gift of second chances is a lesson Clementine mastered without a teacher. She is her father’s child as well, after all.)

To Clementine, Hanzo seems like a good man willing to get his hands dirty for the sake of his dreams. She has no room to judge him though- because in the end isn't she just the same?

Clem will admit that when she first sensed him at the train station, she thought it was a waste that the potential in his aura was untouched because it had the potency to be so _deadly_. But now, Clem can see that even with his aura not being utilized to its true potential, Hanzo is no pushover. He has cords of muscle in his arms that shift with each of his movements, and there's a silent grace to him that reminds her of a predatory animal.

(Clementine takes a moment to wonder why she keeps running across deadly men with beasts living under their skin, and whether or not this will keep on happening once the exams are over. The cold dread in her bones tells her that she'll find that question answered soon enough, and that she may not like what she finds.)

“Are all ninjas as buff as you are? And do all of them wear those shoulder poofs you're rockin’ right now?” She blurts out in curiousity; an intrigued gleam shining in her eyes. “Also, do you think you can tell me the kind of training you did to get that ten-out-of-ten figure? Because if that’s the end result of what your ninja training accomplishes, then I'm willing to join the program.”

Hanzo seems taken aback for a moment at her flood of questions. “I’ve been in training since I was old enough to walk,” he tells her, pink tinting the tips of his ears as he clears his throat, “so I'm not sure if others are in the same physical shape as I currently am in. As for the shoulder pads; they're more of a personal choice rather than a guideline.” His brow slightly furrows as a small frown crosses his face, and he adds apologetically, “I'm forbidden from disclosing the details of my ninjutsu training with foreigners. But I would be willing to help you come up with a training style suited for your personal growth.”

She untucks her legs from under her and stands up, turning to face the steel door of the train car with hands resting on her hips, “First we have to finish these preliminaries and get to the exam site, then we can start make training plans. We should go in now shouldn’t we?” Clem says and reaches for the door; pulling it open in a single movement.

  
She shares an excited smile with the ninja and they both step into the train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates should be a monthly thing, and I'll do my best to make each chapter a respectable length; but until then, be sure to tell me what you think and whether you're liking Clementine's shenanigans so far.


	3. Clementine and the Journey to the Exams (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author writes the word 'door' an awful lot; Clementine has a bit of angst; and a few forgettable characters are introduced (only never to be seen again).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY GUYS SO I'M LIKE A DAY LATE WHICH ISN'T THAT BAD BY LATE WRITING STANDARDS BUT THAT CAUSES ME PHYSICAL PAIN. 
> 
> I think you'll be able to see the point where I got too lazy to write well C':
> 
> I hope you can forgive my one day lateness and unbeta'd update.

“It's darker in here than I expected it to be,” Clementine comments dryly, “I figured that there would be more confetti and cheers waiting for us.”

“It probably seems darker because of the sunglasses you’re wearing.” Hanzo replies and nods besides her. “But perhaps the congratulations will come after the preliminaries are over with.” He shrugs, glancing at Clementine. “Do you think there is more to the preliminary or that this train will take us to the testing grounds?”

Clem lets out a soft laugh and takes her shades off her face. She cocks her head and lets out a thoughtful hum. “Well,” She begins slowly, “My parents are both Hunters and they mentioned that the Preliminaries are the most harmless parts of the exams. I think they said that it took them-” She ticks off numbers with her fingers, “-three, or four tries to get their license. But they told me that there were always at least three phases to the Preliminaries and the exams themselves, so I bet that we're still being assessed right now.”

Hanzo wonders whether or not she has knowledge that will aid them in the trials ahead. The ninja opens his mouth to ask and tenses at the presence that enters the room quietly. He relaxes his muscles, grabbing a hold of the tension that wants to clamp down and wrangles it under control; then he waits for his companion to take notice of the stranger.

“Only you two so far?” The stranger remarks irately, shattering the silence filling the spaces between Clementine’s words in the darkened train car. 

Clem pulls the blade on her thigh out of its holster with a practiced twirl of her fingers, and stares at the shadowed person leaning against the train car door with sharp eyes. It takes her longer to calm her body into relaxed tenseness (just like her mother taught her) and eases the white-knuckled grip she d has on the hilt of her weapon. She allows herself a second to flick her gaze to Hanzo’s and a message is passed wordlessly between them-  _ let's wait to see what happens. _

The duo watch the figure cautiously and ready themselves to defend at a moment’s notice. Then the lights burst to life and beneath them, a slim woman in crisp blue uniform stands with crossed arms and pursed lips. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic you two. I’m the conductor for the 44th Railway Express. I’m not here to murder you.”

The conductor looks significantly less threatening and more disgruntled with the lights on. Clementine can't help the huff of laughter that escapes her. 

“Sorry about that,” Clementine tells the woman, shooting her an apologetic smile and smoothly sliding her blade back into its sheath. “Are you our guide to next part of the Preliminaries?”

“No.” the woman replies briskly, looking almost offended at the thought. “It’s my job to count how many examinees make it onto the train.” she holds a gloved hand out, “Welcome aboard, Number Ten and Eleven. Tickets please.”

“This confirms the preliminaries aren't over yet,” Hanzo comments as they hand their tickets to the conductor, “If what you mentioned was true, then that means there are still two phases left to go.”

“That makes the most sense.” Clem agrees with a sigh, “There's no way it would be this simple to make it to the Hunter exams.”

The conductor quickly introduces herself as Marilyn and hastily ushers them through the connector between the train cars. She dryly rattles off information about the train as they glide through the lavish halls.

“Like its sister trains, the 44th Railway Express became a popular method of transportation shortly after the railroads were constructed and since then- has flourished into one of the major forms of travel even after the invention of the air blimp in the early 18th century. The metalwork you see here is part of the original design that was scrapped after the CEO of SWP Railroads filed bankruptcy due to a scandal with him and his-” 

Clem tries to keep up with the relentless influx of information that Marilyn drones their way, she really does, but she’s never had the best attention span when it came to subjects she has no interest in and that isn’t about to change now. Her attention holds for the next five minutes before it wanes and she gives up on paying attention to the other woman. 

Her mind drifts to the exams ahead of her and whether or not she’ll make it through on her first try. It took her mother four tries to pass the exams; her father took three. Clem doesn’t bother to pretend she’s on the same level as her parents, she knows that in comparison to the other examinees that she’ll encounter during the exams she’s a just a slightly-above average eighteen year old girl. She’ll never be the best, this she has accepted long ago; but she can’t stand to think about the possibility that she never passes the exams at all. 

Her fingers clench around the straps of her backpack. 

(She doesn’t notice Hanzo’s eyes lock onto her bandaged hands with sharp intensity, or how his goofy smile deflates into a worried frown.)

There’s so much she can do, and if she doesn’t pass the exams then she’ll never be able to rise above her mother’s name and show the world that she’s her own person. It’s a stupidly selfish reason for wanting to take life-threatening exams, but she’s sure that there’s bound to be people with worse reasons for wanting a Hunter License. It helps that she knows that even those with dumber reasons than her are willing to kill for what they want. 

(She wonders if she’ll be willing to kill for what she wants too.)

Clem isn’t naive enough to think that she will never have to hurt another person. She  _ knows _ what she would be willing to do to survive; but sometimes she can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have no restraint, to do nothing to stop the rampaging of the beast that dwells within and to simply let herself take what she wants when she craves it.

Clementine will admit that she probably thinks about the blades strapped to her body more than is probably normal for a non-murderous member of society. It’s not like she thinks serial killery thoughts or anything. She just finds it odd that the weapons aren’t any heavier. There’s blood on her hands as well, after all. And sometimes when she wakes up from dreams of blood and terror, she doesn’t understand why the knives never grew heavier with the weight of a life cut short. 

(It would have been easier if they had- then maybe she wouldn’t fear becoming the type of person her mother relishes in hunting down. But it would have made everything far too black and white, and Clem has always been the type of person to dance amidst the grey.)

Clementine often thinks that all the stardust swirling in her veins reaches out to chaos far too easily. That despite being the lonely remnants of forgotten suns- there is a part of that starblood that remembers what it’s like to destroy worlds- and that sometimes that fire blurs the lines between right and wrong that would be clear to other people. 

“Are you alright?” Hanzo whispers in concern, cutting through Clem’s internal musing and snapping her back to her place in the train. “You look as if there’s something bothering you.”

Clem uses the moment to pull herself out of her downward spiraling thoughts. “It’s nothing Hanzo. I’m just impressed with the shit my thoughts can come up with to make me feel like crap. It doesn’t help that I can’t seem to think of my mother without some kind of gross angst latching on to me.”

Hanzo’s brows furrow in thought. “Self-doubt is one of the greatest adversaries that students of ninjutsu must face before they are granted the title of  _ shinobi _ . I, myself, went through a time of great self-doubt during my ninjutsu training, and I feared that I would be unable to make Sensei proud. After I overcame it, though, I realized that I became not only a  _ shinobi _ , but mentally stronger as well. It’s not good that you’re having those kind of thoughts before the true exams begin, but perhaps it’s not all that bad. If you defeat these self-deprecating thoughts right here and now, they will be unable to pester you during the exams- when you need focus the most!” 

He shoots her a sudden, brilliant smile meant to reassure her and Clementine can’t help but gape at the rays of positivity radiating from her bald companion. 

Hanzo is a walking contradiction as far as she can tell, but she doesn’t think it’s a bad thing exactly. The goofy demeanor that he portrays doesn’t do much to hide the fact that he’s still a dangerous man- but she isn’t sure he’s trying very hard to paint himself as harmless. Clem is sure that Hanzo can be ruthless if the need were to arise.  

(Her mother has taken her on hunts before. She’s seen exactly how much ruthless can hide under a mask of harmlessness, especially when the people in question are faced with an obstacle in the way of what they want. She softly brushes the pads of her fingers along her neck at the memory that surges at the thoughts.)

Regardless of the oddity that is his behavior as of far; he’s been nothing but kind to her during the short time they’ve been together. A part of her wonders what exactly it would take to force the animal under his skin to snap awake and to clamp down on it’s prey. She shakes that curiosity away with the grim reminder that a predator thirsting for blood isn’t picky with whose blood it is; and while she may be reckless, she isn’t stupid enough to prod at a slumbering monster to sate her desire for knowledge.

“You’re right Hanzo,” she brightly replies, her usual spunk returning to her. “I’ll kick the hell out of these damn angsty thoughts until they’re my private cheerleaders and then rub how awesome I am in the face of everyone who decides to talk crap.” 

She grins at the ninja, and releases her death-grip on her bag to shoot him a quick thumbs up. She tunes in to Marilyn only to blink at what sounds to be the end of her long-winded speech.

“-Representatives from the Hunter Association will explain to you the next steps to your journey.” Marilyn tells the duo firmly as they come to a halt before a sleek steel door. 

“Here is where I leave you, I must return to my duties at the back. Good Luck on your exams, Number Ten and Eleven.” She says before turning on her heel and stalking back to the luggage car behind them, leaving a startled Clementine in her wake. 

She looks to Hanzo in a bewildered daze. “What did we miss? I wasn’t paying attention.”

The ninja smiles sheepishly and shrugs.

Clem can’t help the ugly snort that wrenches itself out of her mouth. At least her angsting had been good for something- blocking out the boring stories about trains that she had  _ absolutely _ no interest in listening to. She shakes her head in amusement and opens the door, stepping into what seems to be the dining car and staring at the candidates who turn to stare. 

She steps aside so Hanzo can step into the room as well, and slides the door shut behind them. The men in the room stare at the ninja for a beat, before turning their attention to the brown haired woman besides him.

“What’s a woman doing here?” One of the men, red-faced and wearing a grey wife beater, asks the man besides him with a frown. Clem decides that she doesn’t like him.

“Maybe she works here? Though she isn’t dressed like the other workers were.” Mr. Wife-beater’s friend replies with a shrug, looking thoughtful for a moment before directing his next words at Clementine. “Could you be a contestant for the Hunter Exams too?”

She raises a bandaged hand and waves cheerfully at the group of men in front of her. “You’re right on target!” She tells the man with a quick thumbs up. “I’m here to take the Hunter Exams alongside you all.” 

Clem sees the majority of the men dismiss her at her happy-go-lucky introduction; and while she doesn’t necessarily  _ want _ them to think of her as a threat, it stings more than she thought it would to be so easily brushed aside because of her gender. 

Mr. Wife-beater’s friend runs a hand through his shorn blond hair and sighs, “Look doll, it’s cute that a gal like you wants to take the Hunter Exams with your boyfriend, but the exams are no joke. There’s a real risk of death in taking them.” 

There is a certain irony in one of the strongest people in the room is being disregarded simply because he entered the room with a woman by his side, she thinks to herself. Clem takes a second to make a mental note- apparently all the other examinees are complete  _ idiots _ . It looks like it’s just her and Hanzo with any actual intelligence in their heads.

“Actually,” she drawls with a polite smile curving her lips, “I met dear Hanzo here less than than an hour ago. And I’m fully aware of what risks the exams bring. Thank you for your concern though.”

Hanzo, bless his soul, bumps his shoulder against her reassuringly and Clem feels warm at the subtle reminder that he’s on her side.  _ Ha,  _ she thinks childishly,  _ the badass ninja believes in me and not you, losers! _

She knows that many of the people who attempt the exams are male, and that many- perhaps because of the high mortality rate, or some other reason she can’t begin to fathom- view women as less capable of becoming Hunters than their male counterparts. She just doesn’t expect to have to stand up to scrutiny this early on in the exams, especially considering they haven’t even properly started yet. 

The man blinks, clearly startled by Clem’s reply.

“What Harold means to say is that the exams aren’t a place for women to come mess around in when the mood strikes them. You should go back home girly; stop trying to play in men’s games and find yourself a husband to take care of you.” A mohawked man interjects bluntly. Clem decides that she likes him less than the first guy.

Clem feels her smile turn sharp, “It’s good thing I’m not here to ‘mess’ around then.” She pointedly scans hims up and down. “If anything, it’s men like you, who call the Hunter Exams ‘games’ that are the ones playing around, don’t you think? By that reasoning, shouldn’t you go and find yourself a husband instead?” 

Rage flashes in Mr. Mohawked-Douchebag’s eyes and he spits out a curse at her, swinging a meaty fist at her face angrily. Clementine takes a quick step to the side and the hit misses by a wide berth. She laughs at the failed attempt. Jeez, how to dodge a punch is the first thing her father taught her when she turned seven.

“DON’T LAUGH AT ME YOU STUPID BITCH!” He roars furiously, and jerks a sword out from its scabbard, wildly swinging the polished metal in the air in front of her face. She leans her head back and out of reach of the sword, the steel whistling as it glides past her. Clem has to repeat the promise she made to her father like a mantra in her head- to not use what little he’s taught her about Nen during the exams. Even if this asshole would deserve it if she hit him with a Ren infused punch hard enough to break every bone in his body. (Not that she’s sure she could. She’s not even past the basics, much less sure if she’s Enhancer, but an angry girl can dream can’t she?)

She narrows her eyes; watching Mr. Mohawked-Douchebag as he readies to strike out again and catching his wrist before any force can be put behind the swing. Her fingers clamp down with bruising force- _Thank God_ for her mother’s strength training- and with a rapid jerk of her arm, twists his wrist with a sharp crack. 

He shrieks in pain and drops to his knees. Around them the other examinees gape in shock and one of them trembles with rage.

“How dare you touch my brother like that!?” He screams as lunges at her turned back. 

The dining hall door is thrown open with a bang- the thick metal slamming into the man’s face with a sickening crunch. A woman, towering high over the majority of the examinees, enters the room and takes in the situation with a glance.

“Would anyone care to tell me what’s going on here?” She asks in a calm voice. 

It’s clear it’s not a request and Clementine gulps nervously. 

_ Oh crap. _

* * *

 

Accipi is not impressed by the batch of examinees that greet her when she enters the Dining Hall; and is not at all amused by the excuses thrown her way as to who instigated the conflict. The Poacher Hunter does not like when people do not take responsibility for their actions, and she’s tempted to disqualify all the examinees in the room. 

The young woman who broke the man’s wrist looks mildly ashamed as she tells Accipi her side of the story, eyes cast downward and hands toying with the straps of her pack. “-Then I broke his wrist because I was really pissed because of what he had said to me and because he was swinging his sword in my face.” She finishes lamely, lifting her head and making awkward eye contact with Accipi.

Perhaps if Accipi was younger she would have felt what the other woman did was justified, but now, with decades of experience under her belt, she is less hotheaded than when she first became a Hunter. “You may have not been the one to lash out first in physical terms, but you are at fault as well. You allowed the situation to escalate as it did and you’re the one who left physical injuries on another competitor. Reacting in such an immature manner to things all female Hunters and non-binary Hunters have to face only makes you seem like a child who isn't ready to take on the exams.”

The girl drops her gaze again, “You’re right,” she whispers, “I shouldn’t have reacted that way to his taunt no matter how mad I was.” The bald man besides her presses a reassuring hand to her shoulder and starts chattering about something called  _ ninjutsu _ and the value of recognizing one’s errors.

Accipi turns away, and towards the man cradling his arm to his chest. “You sir, are entitled to your own opinions about women, gender roles, and the Hunter Exams; but next time do not attack an examinee who pass through your defenses so easily and cause you lasting harm.” She ignores the offended look that flashes across his face. “If you’re feeling well enough, then I suggest we continue the exams.”

She raises her voice to address all the participants in the room. “Now that the drama has been dealt with, I’ll begin with an introduction. I’m Accipi Okeki, a Poacher Hunter, and I’m here to explain this phase of the preliminaries. In short, I will ask you a question and give you two answer choices, but it’s up to you to tell me which is the right one. The answer you choose will affect what train stop I tell you to get off at in order to reach the exams.”

Accipi clears her throat and begins.“The house you live in is going up in flames, and in their rooms, an equal distance away from where you are, are your two children sleeping soundly. There are two things you can do, save your daughter or save your son. Tell me, do you save your son or do you save your daughter?” She glances at a clock mounted on the wall, “You have thirty seconds to give me your answer. Choose wisely.” 

The seconds tick by and the examinees grow more restless, whispered discussions being held about the choices given. 

Finally time is up. “Okay, for all of you who chose to save your daughter, you will stay in his room until it’s time for the train to disembark and then you shall listen to the instructions the conductor gives you. As for the rest, follow me.” 

She leads the rest of the group onto the next car over, leaving behind four examinees and sliding the deadbolt shut behind her. “The ones who chose to save their son, you shall wait for the train to reach its fourth stop and then you will get off there.” She continues to the next car, glancing behind her and seeing only two figures following her. She tilts her head in acknowledgement and the duo hurries through the door before she seals it. 

Accipi watches the two examinees that followed her with crossed arms. “And why did neither of you choose one of the options?”

The girl shares a look with the man besides her and takes a deep breath. “We don’t think that any of the choices you gave us was right; and I think that not answering that question was the correct thing to do.”

Accipi quirks a brow. “Oh?”  _ How interesting _ . “Why do you say that?”

The man answers this time, flicking his eyes to her Fang Tian Ji, and meeting her grey eyes confidently. “Because martial artist such as yourself tend to have an honor code, and choosing between which child to save goes against it. Especially, as my friend here pointed out, if you’re Poacher Hunter like you said; it would mean that you value life enough to work to preserve it and most likely don’t think that any of the choices you gave us are right either.”

She hums in her throat, considering the two examinees before her. It’s likely that the two would be able to reach the exam site if they put their minds to it, and have already shown how perceptive they can be. They’re the only two to understand that the question asked had no right answer after all, and have shown that they’re capable of thinking things through. Accipi turns to the door and lifts a hatch near the steel door. She presses a large red button and a loud screech is heard from behind the sealed door.

The girl looks wary now, hands loose but slowly creeping close to her side where Accipi assumes a weapon is hidden. Her partner is much better at keeping his own unease under control. He simply watches her with unreadable brown eyes and Accipi feels slight apprehension at the intensity he watches her with, as if he’s weighing the value of attacking her before she does him. Accipi has a sudden urge to pull her Fang Tian Ji from behind her back and to see how the two examinees react to the threat.

“You two are the only ones who made the correct choice.” She tells them instead, remembering that she’s here to assess the candidates and not harass them into attacking her. 

“What happened to the ones who made the wrong choice?” Asks the girl curiously, “That screech didn’t sound like anything good.”

Accipi trails her hand down her braid and flashes a smile at them. “They were left behind- that button disconnects the coupling from the main car. In a few hours they’ll open the door to find that they’re still on the outskirts of York New.” Accipi is amused by the way both of the examinees blanch at the information. “Congratulations on passing the second phase of the Preliminaries.”

  
“Now listen carefully on how to reach the third phase or you’ll get lost on the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's something you liked about the chapter in particular, or that you have questions about- feel free to leave comments below. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and see you next time!
> 
> -Love Morte_Sangriz -


	4. Clementine and the Journey to the Exams (Part III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which foggy forests aren't as majestic as blog pictures make them seem; Hanzo beats up some lizards; and Clem stabs the wrong person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys! I know I said that the journey to the exams would only take two chapters but I lied lol cx
> 
> I swear after this the plot gets rolling for real and everyone's lovable idiots will be introduced.
> 
> Thank you, everyone who took the time to read and kudos this story; I hope that you continue following Clem's journey. C:

Strips of old paint fall to the creaking platform under Clementine’s boots. Her fingers nimbly peel the faded blue off the train station walls by their curled edges as a frown tugs at her lips. Accipi’s instructions to the two them had been simple enough; they were to head towards the crimson-leaved tree in the surrounding forest and meet with guide to the Hunter Exams there. The problem with that plan showed itself pretty early on- considering the entire freakin’ area around them was  _ drowning  _ in heavy fog and they could see less than a foot front of their face, much less spot a splash of color. 

So now Clementine is stuck waiting at the train stop for Hanzo to finish ‘scouting’ the area because as he told her with an apologetic shrug “she’s not as fast as he is and it might be hard to keep up with him”. She knows he’s not  _ wrong _ , but Clem still feels the slightest bit offended. Especially since she knows full well that he probably went to scale some random tree to gain some insight to their surroundings. And to find their ‘Special’ tree of course.

Clem may be untrained in  _ Ninjutsu _ and the art of the  _ Shinobi,  _ but come on- climbing trees is easy! She’s been scaling the monster trees in the York New City Park since she was eight; she doubts that the stocky ones around her would be much of a hassle in comparison. But then again, maybe ninja have a super secret way to go up trees? She finds it hard to imagine Hanzo climbing a tree the normal way. Clem brightens and stops picking at the chipped paint on the station walls. She’s totally going to pester Hanzo until he teaches her how ninjas climb trees-  _ Shinobi  _ secrets be damned. She can be very convincing (read annoying) in order to get what she wants.

She senses Hanzo’s aura approach before she sees him. 

((In her father’s words (when he learned of her sensing ability during his lessons with her), her ability to ‘feel’  _ Nen _ without any usage of  _ Nen  _ herself; is something with great potential. Clementine thinks her aura sensing needs tons more training in order to become truly impressive. She’s decent enough at sensing other people’s  _ Nen,  _ but she’s not the best at telling  _ who  _ exactly is approaching her; it won’t do to think that the aura heading her way is an ally when it’s an enemy instead. Of course sometimes she ‘gets’ feelings that someone is dangerously strong, but it’s more of an instinct than a willing use of her sensing. 

Right now though; it’s useless unless someone is within a hundred feet of her. 

(Which Clementine thinks is complete bullshit considering all the stories she’s been told of people- legendary assassins included- that use a  _ Nen  _ property called  _ En _ to do what she can naturally; and yet their range can go as far as three-hundred freakin’ meters when hers barely goes past twenty.  Bullshit! ))

Clem scowls at the fog at the thought and that’s what Hanzo sees when he arrives back at the station. He blinks at the sight of his friend pouting at the thick mist as if it has personally insulted her honor; which if he’s gotten an accurate reading of her personality in the time they’ve been together- it might actually have. 

Hanzo laughs and Clem pouts at him. “I’d enjoy hearing about how the fog earned your wrath, but right now we should be heading Northwest. I spotted the crimson color of the tree in that direction.” 

Clementine gets an idea; which like all her ideas, has a fifty-fifty chance of going terribly wrong; and sets her bag down to root through it. She knows she packed a few things to help her out in case she got lost. She just has to dig through her bag and hope that the fog isn’t the kind to mess with compasses.

“There’s a cabin built underneath the tree, but Accipi mentioned that we would find the exam guides near there, so I believe that the guides must live there.” Hanzo continues; not batting an eye at Clementine’s actions. “We should keep our guard up regardless of how close we are to reaching the exam site.”  

He pauses and finishes with what would’ve been a confidential whisper if he wasn’t Hanzo- The World’s Least Secretive Ninja. “There’s something odd I noticed during my scouting that I think I should mention before we set out for the tree.” 

Clem pulls a compass and map from her bag, looking over the map for a moment before groaning loudly, “It’s the fog isn’t it?"

Hanzo blinks, “How did you know?”

“Look up and tell me what you see,” Clem orders instead of answering and Hanzo- with obvious confusion at the command- obliges.

There’s nothing off about the clear blue skies above them, unless you count the fact that night is soon to fall. Hanzo wonders about what could be wrong with a sky with no cloud in sight when what he was missing hits him. 

“Ah,” He says in sudden understanding, “The sky is clear and yet there is still fog.”

Clem nods and stands with her bag back on her shoulders. “Yeah, I didn’t think much of it originally, but now I’m thinking this fog isn’t natural. Maybe if we were a bit further up North, which I thought we were, but this train stop is still in the middle of the Yorbian Continent. For there to be fog this heavy down here doesn’t make much sense.”

“So getting through this fog and to our destination unhindered is the preliminary we must pass in order to make it to Zaban City?” 

“I think so, but we should be careful either way. Just in case.”

The two examinees glance at the fog in shared silence. They share an almost sobering moment before Clementine interrupts with a soft gasp. 

“Oh, I almost forgot!"

She nudges Hanzo with her elbow and grins. 

“You should teach me the way  _ Shinobi _ climb trees.”

* * *

 

 

Their stroll in the forest would be pleasant, Clem thinks, if she didn’t know something is stalking them through the heavy fog.

 

She sidles closer to the ninja, angling her head so that her lips can’t be seen or read.

“What do you want to do about our extra guest?”

Hanzo lazily flicks his eyes in her direction, making a show of placing his arms behind his head in false nonchalance. Clem can’t help but be reminded of the danger that she had first sensed in his aura, and how it’s usually when one least expects it that predator's strike. 

“Nothing for now.” He tells her. “Their intentions remain unknown.”

Clementine nods and backs away. 

She glances at her map and compass and has to readjust their course once again. Clem is sure that if she hadn’t packed it, then the fog and dying light would have had them going in circles until morning came.

Her compass has been working well so far; so that’s a worry off her shoulders. When the mention of unnatural fogs had come up, she had been concerned that the magnetic field would have been messed up- like with that patch of ocean she’s read about, the Merbuda Triangle. Lucky for her and Hanzo, their journey Northwest is much easier now that she’s sure that her compass isn’t going to freak out on them midway there. 

Clem offers Hanzo one of the many snacks stowed away in her bag and shrugs as he declines it. It just means more for her, something she doesn’t really mind at all. She smiles, and as the sharp glint in his eyes softens. He begins explaining to her that the  _ Shinobi  _ teachings forbid accepting food that hasn’t been prepared by one’s own hand. Clem devours the information eagerly. She’s always interested in learning new things and she’s hoping that maybe she can glean training ideas from what Hanzo feels comfortable in revealing to her. It seems like helpful knowledge too, so it’s a win-win situation for Clem.

Dry leaves crunch under her boots while besides her Hanzo’s movements make no sound. The unnatural fog weaves itself through the dense tree trunks; pale tendrils curling around Clementine’s legs and kissing her boots. Above them, in the spots of clear sky visible through the treeline, they can see the fading light of the setting sun. It stains the sky with shades of vibrant orange, and startling vermillion; both stretching their colors onto the azure-turned violet sky and reminding Clem, not unpleasantly, of a painting she saw once.  

She’s on her third energy bar and in the middle of telling Hanzo about the kind of unbelievable things she’s seen while working the blackjack tables when she feels something around them change. 

Clementine’s senses are blaring warnings- and they’re telling her that their one pursuer has turned into four.

“Hanzo-” She stops walking. “-there are more of them now.”

“I noticed that as well,” Hanzo reassures her, “I believe we may come to see what their motives are soon enough.”

“They’re circling us.” Clem says dryly, “I don’t think their motives are much of a mystery anymore.” 

Ingrained habit has her immediately clenching her daggers with practiced ease; the twin blades glistening dangerously and leaving their holsters on both her thighs lighter without the steel weighing them down. 

Hanzo is opening his mouth to reply when the sound of a whistle rings out through the darkened forest. He straightens, false persona melting away to reveal the  _ Shinobi _ at his core and Clem can see he’s more than ready to deal with their guests. 

The thought that maybe a fully trained ninja and a girl with knives strapped to various parts of her body is a bit overkill,  _ does _ in fact cross her mind.

But then their pursuers  _ explode _ out of the shadowed treeline and Clementine is too busy  _ moving _ to think about much else.

* * *

 

 

Three Fog-Lizards rush them and Clementine throws herself out of the way.  

Only one of the lizards doesn’t try to rush the ninja. 

Instead, it turns and hisses at Clem- slimy tongue slithering out to taste the air. It locks its eyes on her and threateningly huffs coils of fog out of its nostrils; raising its head aggressively and flicking its tongue out once again. She uses its moment of distraction to slash at the exposed muscle, nicking it and drawing first blood. The creature jerks back with a pained screech, rapidly shaking its head and splattering droplets of blood on the ground around it.

 The other two make an attempt to surround Hanzo.

 They circle him. Eyeing the ninja for any opening that they can pounce on while he does the same to them in turn. Seconds tick by like minutes and then the reptiles scent the blood of one of their own. Their attention falters and their defenses fall. (For less than a second, but in the end it’s all the same.)

 It’s a mistake to show weakness to a _shinobi_. 

 Hanzo _moves_.

The heel of his left foot crashes down on a Fog-Lizard’s skull. Not killing it, but knocking it unconscious instead. His attention snaps to the other animal and he flits to it’s side. He slams his fist into one of the animal’s soft underjaw and doesn’t stop to watch how far it flies back. 

Then he hears Clementine shriek.

“ _ DEAR GOD! WHAT THE FUCK?”  _ He jumps slightly, and throws a concerned gaze at his friend- quickly scanning her for injuries.

She’s staring at the unconscious lizards in front of her with a dazed expression. Clem raises her eyes to meet his slowly. “Hanzo-” she murmurs, voice soft and fingers twitching on the handles of her blades. “-did you just throw a fucking lizard at me?”

He’s not quite sure he wants to answer that question.

“Your lizard almost hit me. It knocked out my lizard.” She’s on a roll now. “I’m gonna look like a weakling in front of the guy watching us,” she continues, oblivious to Hanzo’s twitch at the mention of another follower. “It’s gonna look like I can’t defeat my own damn lizard. Oh god… what would my  _ mother  _ say if she heard that I didn’t beat up my own lizard?”

“Wait Clem,” Hanzo interrupts, “What was that about someone watching us?”

“Forget about him Hanzo!” She groans pitifully, “What about my _ mother? _ ”

He thinks quickly and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “If we stop the guy watching us from running away then your mother will never have to find out.” 

Clementine freezes.  “Are you sure?” 

At his hasty nod, she chucks one of her knives into the trees to their right. There’s a loud curse and the rustling of foliage; but at that point Clementine has already dashed off into the bushes- leaving a stunned Hanzo behind. He rubs the back of his neck and nudges the unconscious bodies of the Fog-Lizards with his foot.

“I’ll just wait here?”

* * *

 

 

When Clementine was eight she climbed all the way to the top of the second tallest tree in Northern Park Square. 

In five minutes. 

It was her proudest achievement at the time. Especially since when she showed her mother and father how fast she was; _both_ of them were impressed by how agile she was in the treetops. Her mother had even mentioned how only a good Blacklist Hunter was fast in any kind of terrain- trees included.  

Clementine’s senses tell her that her prey is still in the trees; his aura wavering in the way she associates with pain. Clem knows that sometimes the simplest of observations can be the most important during a mission. It is the smallest things that ultimately shift the tides of battle, she’s learned- and knowing that her blade has hit it’s mark is one of those small details that will prove useful later on. 

(Noticing that the fog that has been hounding each of their footsteps is gone is another.)

If she’s right, then the man is doing his best to keep quiet and avoid detection by keeping still. It would have worked if her abnormal ability hadn’t keyed her in as to what area he’s hiding in. Clementine absentmindedly notes that her aura sensing is sharper than she can recall it being, and chalks it up to the genuine fear of her mother being a good motivator.

“I’m not going to hurt you-” she calls out to the trees; eyes watching the ground around her intently. Clem shoves her other knife back into its holster because she honestly isn’t trying to murder him. “-I just need to make sure what you saw here stays a secret.” Clem wants to smack herself when she realizes that she probably doesn’t sound very reassuring.

Drops of blood splatter on the ground from the branches above her. 

_ Bingo _ . Clementine has her target in her crosshairs.

Mentally taking note of every foothold in the tree before her- she calls out an apology to the man she’s hunting and scales the tree as fast as she can. Which happens to be freakishly fast; considering eight-year old Clementine had nothing on the eighteen year old her. 

(It’s no wonder the guy screams.)

She’s spewing apologies when she reaches him; and honestly, the guy looks like he needs something more than just apologies to feel better- like maybe some vodka. He flinches away from her hand when she reaches out to him. Clem would feel offended if she didn’t remember that she kinda, sorta, stabbed the guy and made vague comments about ‘silencing’ him. 

“I promise that I’m not trying to kill you,” she starts off and feels guilt well up when he pointedly looks at the knife-  _ her knife _ \- sticking out of his arm and back at her. “How was I supposed to know it would actually hit you!?” She exclaims indignantly. “Plus you were the one who technically attacked us first.”

“Look,” Clem says in a quieter voice, “I’ll patch you up to the best of my ability if you let me, and we can talk about this like civil human beings. Is that okay with you?”

The scruffy man eyes her cautiously. “I’ll need help getting down from this tree.”

Clementine beams and nods violently. “I’ll get you down no problem!” 

* * *

 

 

When Clementine meets back up with Hanzo, the first thing the scruffy man does is rush to the sides of the Fog-Lizards. His concern for the animals confirms Clementine's suspicions about the man and the altercation they had with the creatures minutes ago. She sets her bag down, besides Hanzo and searches for her first-aid kit. 

“They’re alive,” the man breathes in relief when he finishes his one handed examination of the lizards. “Only unconscious.” 

Hanzo smiles, but Clementine can see the edge of suspicion in it. “If I may ask… Who are you and why did you attack us?” He looks at ease, but having seen him in action- Clem knows that is still dangerous no matter how relaxed he seems.

Clem approaches the man with her first-aid kit in hand and gets to work on fixing him up. He introduces himself as Kaen, and explains that he is a guide to Hunter Exams that is known for partnering with unusual animals. 

Something in her stomach sinks. 

She attacked their guide to the exams. Clementine had ruined their chances of taking the exams single-handedly by throwing a  _ fucking knife _ at the person supposed to led them there. She removes her knife from his arm quickly, and disinfects the wound with gentle fingers. 

She tries to ignore the tremor in them.

Clementine binds bandages securely around Kaen’s arm and forces a smile at his murmured  _ thank you.  _

Hanzo’s aura settles at the guide’s explanation of why he had sent his animals to attack them. It had been a test of how they react to unforeseen complications to their goals and whether they would figure out that the journey to the red tree was the final preliminary to complete. Clem can’t help but notice that he doesn’t mention whether they passed or not.

“Kaen,” she begins; fighting with the right words to say to fix her possible mistake. She’s willing to damn herself to let her friend go ahead. “I wanted to apologize for hurting you; and wanted to ask you a favor.”

Hanzo turns to her in curiosity and Clem can’t meet his eyes. She can’t look into the eyes of the only person that’s believed in her chance of passing the exams and continue with what she has to say.

“If you’re going to fail us here and now-” Clementine swallows the spiders of guilt crawling up her throat at the thought of ruining Hanzo’s chance to participate in this year’s exams and clenches her fists. “-Can you please let my friend go on ahead?”

“C-Clem?” Hanzo sputters in shock, brown eyes widening at her words.

“I know that by hurting you, the guide, I probably made you not want to escort us to Zaban City.” Clem’s eyes glisten with determination as she continues to speak. “But my friend doesn’t deserve to pay for the mistakes I made.” She bows. “Please escort him to the Exam site.”

Kaen says nothing, watching her with eyes made darker by the moonless night. 

“Here I was gonna let you guys wonder whether or not you had passed until we got back to my place.” He sighs and scratches the back of his head. “But I’ll just feel like an asshole if I do that after you asked me that so earnestly.”

Clementine raises herself from her bow with an intelligent, “Huh _?”   _

“You noticed that you were being followed the moment we were on your trail, and would have dispatched your enemy if your friend hadn’t interfered. Your ninja friend here, kicked some serious ass without breaking a sweat. I think that both of you are ready to take the Hunter Exams.” Kaen tells them with a solemn nod. “I’ll take you both to Zaban City.” 

“B-But I thought that you would fail us since I stabbed you and all,” She stutters. “You were going to pass us the entire time?”

“Technically yes, though I wasn’t entirely sure about it until you showed that you were more concerned about your friend’s chances of passing than your own.”

She throws herself at  him, pulling him into a hug.

He grimaces. “Ahhh shit, you’re hurting my arm.”

Kaen warns them that before he can take them anywhere they have to reach his cabin and the animals that are to take them to Zaban City. He adds that since his Fog-Lizards aren’t conscious to walk to his cabin, that it’s up to Clem and Hanzo to lug them there.“It wouldn’t be nice to leave them here after they got all beat up by you guys,” He says with a smirk and saunters away. 

(Clementine is aching by the time they reach the cabin, and swears to herself that next time she’ll watch out who she stabs so they can’t use the excuse of injury to avoid carrying their own damn pets home.)

* * *

 

 

Clem hadn’t even know that miniature blimps led by Cloud-Birds was a method of transportation before this. It goes to show just how little she knows about the world around her.  

She enjoyed it, even if she had fallen asleep at some point during the ride. Thanks to her nap though, she’s refreshed when they finally touch down on the outskirts of the city. The odd sky carriage that takes them to Zaban City departs once Kaen ushers them into the bustling streets; and the last she sees of it is as it shrinks on the horizon.

Zaban City seems shadier than she remembers it being when she came with her father years ago. Or perhaps it’s that she can see things more clearly now that she doesn’t have the awe of being a child in a new place blinding her to the things happening around her. She trails behind Kaen and Hanzo- keeping them both in her line of sight but drinking in the visuals of the sleazy marketplace they cross. 

She shouldn’t even be that intrigued by the people that run the stalls, nor the people that visit them; but it seems that her love for watching people has reared its head in the most inconvenient of times. She nearly gets swallowed by the crowds a few times. At some point she learns that travelling with Hanzo has made his aura somewhat easier to recognize, and uses that to catch back up with him. 

She runs into the ninja’s back when his steps come to a halt besides Kaen in front of a small diner. What the hell is he made of, Clem wonders as she pouts and rubs at her throbbing nose. 

Kaen waits until both of them meet his eyes, before nodding. “This is where the exams will take place. If there’s anything you need to do, I suggest you do it before you enter.”

Clem shyly tugs at his shirt. “What if I need to pee? Can I use the bathroom in the restaurant before you send us on our way?”

“Yes, Clementine. You can go to the restroom here.” Hanzo laughs and Kaen rubs at his temple with his good hand. “Any other questions? No? Good. Let’s go in.”

After Clem returns from the bathroom, Kaen makes an order and guides them to a room in the back. He waves as the elevator doors slide shut; leaving Clementine with the question of whether she’ll ever see him again. She hopes so. He was nice once he got over the whole  _ you stabbed me  _ thing.

Hanzo leans against the wall while Clem sits down on one of the chairs in the room. They stay in comfortable silence, until the elevator starts to move and the giddiness of finally reaching the exam site hits them both. 

 

They laugh like joyful idiots as the elevator sinks deeper into the embrace of the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment what you think about the chapter and to shamelessly tell all your friends about this story! C;


	5. Clementine and the First Phase (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are questions on the types of beans that are known to mankind; blackmail doesn't always go as planned, and Clem makes new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the HxH plot gets rolling.  
> I feel no shame at the fact that the way I ended the chapter. C:  
> (Only that I couldn't fit more in before I found the perfect sentence.)
> 
> Thank you, all of you who've taken the time to read this story and I hope you stayed tuned until next time! C:

A talking bean greets them when they step out of the elevator and Clementine only pays vague attention to the speech it gives them. She catches enough of it to learn that its name is Beans and that it would probably not be pleased if it learned that she’s referring to him as an 'it' in her mind. She takes a second to force the rudeness out of her head, Beans is a living cognitive creature and honestly, she’s being a mental asshole when he didn’t do anything wrong to her. But seriously though, she knows she’s probably staring, but she’s a curious person by nature and _is he a human with an odd resemblance to a bean or is he a bean that by some marvel became self-aware?_

Her father had plenty of experience with beans and he had never told her about anything of living, talking, beans being _functional_ members of society. That’s a point to the theory of him just being a bean-like human, but Clem is sure that the not-knowing is going to gnaw at her until she gets some honest-to-God answers. It’s times like these that she wishes she had paid more attention to her father’s well-meaning speeches about the various kinds of beans that he’s had the pleasure of encountering. In her defense, how the hell was she supposed to know that she would come across a _living bean?_

Hanzo nudges her with his elbow and Clem turns her attention from her very important questions to the ninja standing beside her. She looks at him inquisitively and he flicks his eyes from her to Beans, who is standing- oblivious to Clementine’s _need to know what he is_ \- with a white badge held towards her in an outstretched hand. Hanzo already has one pinned to his shirt so Clem takes hers and does the same, pinning it to her tank-top over her heart.

Hanzo starts steering her away from in front of the elevator so in case it opens she doesn’t get mowed down by the disembarking people. Clem lets herself be tugged away a few steps before she turns and blurts out, “Beans, are you an actual bean or just a person who resembles one?”

Beans blinks and then good-naturedly smiles at her. “You’re the first to ask me that. I’ve been told that my ‘unique’ pigmentation often brings into question the nature of what I am, and the answer to what I am can be answered simply with the fact that I am a-”

The elevator slides open with a soft hiss and the boisterous talking of the examinees inside drowns out Beans's final words.

“-I’m glad I was able to answer your question, but I have to return to my duties.” He waves at her and Hanzo. “Good luck on the exam!”

Clem feels cheated. She was honestly curious about the answer Beans would give her. Her father may be a Gourmet Hunter but not even he knows everything about the types of beans that exist. It would give her something to show off to him if she ended up discovering a new species of bean that not even her father is aware of.

She looks at Hanzo who is making sure she isn’t left behind as they walk away. She notices the quirk of his lips and pouts. He doesn’t understand the struggle she’s facing. She’s torn between walking back to Beans at this very moment or coming back when he’s less busy. She voices her concerns to her friend only for him to chuckle at her _very_ important predicament.

“It’s not funny Hanzo. I _really_ need to know what he is. For the sake of research!”

Hanzo hides a laugh behind a cough. Clem shoots him a glare.

“You’re being mean to me. I’m trying to be devastated here and you’re just laughing at my pain. It’s not my fault I have questions that need answers.”

She can feel the amusement rolling off him and huffs, prepared to start an entire speech on the importance of getting answers to questions that no one has dared to ask before.

“Haven’t seen you two before.” An amused voice interjects as Clem is arranging her thoughts. “You’re rookies, right? You two must be really strong to have made it this far for your first time.”

Hanzo nods enthusiastically, kinda like a puppy that’s been praised for the first time, while Clementine is still moping about the fact that she didn’t get an answer from Beans. She tugs on Hanzo’s shirt and whispers in his ear as he leans over.

“I’m gonna go explore, okay? You can talk to this random dude,” Clem stifles a grin. “I mean, you can scope out the competition while I look around. We can meet up afterward.”

A thought occurs to her and Clem digs out a notepad from one of her bag's side pockets; it’s the one where she writes her dreams in, but it’ll work for what she has in mind. “I just realized that I never asked if you had a phone, but I’ll give you my phone number just in case.”

The guy in front of them is politely waiting for their whispering to end before he continues with his introduction. What a nice guy.  

“I’ll be able to find you. _Shinobi_ are trained to find their targets no matter the circumstances.” Hanzo assures her as he takes the slip of paper from her all the same.

Clementine nods in awe. “That’s so cool.”

Hanzo nods in agreement, and Clem really should be going now before they start nodding to each other for the next ten minutes. She waves at the stranger politely.

“Hello! I’m Clem.” He opens his mouth to reply but she bulldozes on without noticing. “I’d love to stay and chat, but exploration is calling my name, so I’m going to check this place out. It was nice meeting you Mr. Number 16, but I’ll be seeing you later.”

She pats Hanzo’s arm and turns to the crowd, spotting a few gaps where she can probably slip through. The stocky man she leaves Hanzo with rings a few bells in her head, and as she walks away she can’t help but wonder where she has seen him before.

Clem sticks by the walls, mentally mapping her surroundings and doing her best to not bump into anyone around her. There are a lot of people here; most unsmiling and serious as they wait for the exams to begin. Clem thinks that they should be happier because at least they made it this far.

The exam site isn’t as exciting as the people filling it and Clementine isn’t impressed by what she sees.

The passage is pretty simple in design- a basic arch of the underground room held up by tons of cement and steel connected to curved walls. There are thick pipes running across the roof of the underground room, and upon closer examination, Clem can see that it’s not much of a room but more of a tunnel. The first phase of the exam will probably have them travel through the underground passage she sees. (Clementine takes a moment to appreciate the fact that she’s not claustrophobic.) It wouldn’t be practical for all the examinees to go up the way they came for the first part of the exam, after all.

In hindsight, she should have gone with Hanzo. Clem would go to him now, but she’s long since lost him in the crowd. It’s not like she can scan the crowd for him either, because while she’s an average height at 5’6”- the other examinees are freakishly built and block her line of sight.

Her sensing isn’t very helpful either. The hum of Hanzo’s aura keeps on quickly jumping from place to place and is curled loosely to his form, meaning that he must be moving around introducing himself at an incredible speed. Plus there’s the fact that there are so many stronger auras buzzing on her radar, interfering with her focus, that it’s hard for Clem to pinpoint exactly where her ninja friend is at.

Clem is torn between being impressed that there are so many people with potential here and irritated that she won’t be able to meet up with Hanzo at this rate.

Actually, from what she can sense, Hanzo reminds her of a bumblebee in the lazy warmth of spring, fluttering amidst the flowers of the Central City Park. It’s an accurate enough of a description of the ninja flitting from person to person- with words spewing out of his mouth faster than his audience can keep up with, and a grin stretched over his face- that laughter forces its way out of her mouth hard enough to actually hurt. Dealing with Hanzo when one is not prepared is kind of like sitting shotgun in a York New drag race on the main highway; an experience not for the faint of heart, but fun for anyone who wants to have a good time.

(She ignores the odd looks the contestants around her shoot her because the mental image of Bee-Hanzo drag-racing through the streets of York New is too fucking hilarious to be ashamed of.)

* * *

  


Clem nearly runs into an examinee, a kid with a laptop held open in front of him, typing with one hand and standing in the middle of the path she was going to take around the crowd.

She cocks her head at the bizarre sight and lets out a soft hum. Someone bringing a laptop to the exams isn’t the oddest thing she’s seen so far in her scan of the examinees; she’s seen someone carrying a monkey on their shoulder, so a laptop isn’t very interesting in comparison.

The badge on the boy’s shirt reads #187, and Clem is struck by sudden curiosity as to what those numbers could mean. Are they there to keep track of the number of candidates that made it to the exam site, or do they serve an important purpose they’re not being informed of?

She toys with her own badge- #295 - at the thought.

No matter what ulterior motive there is for the badges being handed out to them, Clem isn’t one to put much thought into things she has no control of- so she puts it out of her mind and smiles at the laptop kid instead. It’d be nice to make a friend while they wait for the exams to begin.

The strength of the aura around #187 isn’t anything impressive, it feels feeble and leaves Clem with the impression that the boy doesn’t have the willpower it will take to pass the Hunter Exams. Still, there can’t be much harm in trying to befriend him- after all she made friends Hanzo, and his aura has made it clear that he is nothing more than a wolf in sheep’s clothing waiting for the chance to pounce out of his disguise. Clem figures that if the ninja can be her friend, then the pasty kid with a computer can too.

She introduces herself with her usual cheer. “Hello there!” The boy’s eyes flick away from his screen and land on her; the rapid typing of his fingers slowing for a beat before picking back up, “It’s nice to meet you Number 187! What’s your name? Mine is Clementine, though most people call me Clem.”

“Nicolas,” he replies with a haughty smile. “Hold on a moment-” The boy taps on the keyboard and his eyes are riveted on whatever fills the screen, greedily drinking up the sight of whatever is on it.

“Clementine Zee-Amõs,” he loudly declares and Clem feels the smile freeze on her face. “You’re an exam rookie so there are no interesting stats on file. It says here you live in York New City.”

The kid must have hacked into the Hunter Exam registry and used the information she used to register to track her down. He’s just trying to unnerve her by showing that he has information on her.

She’s an adult, she can’t let a shithead kid get to her.

 

“Oh? What’s this?” Nicolas gleefully asks, beady eyes glinting harshly under the fluorescent lighting. Clem can feel her heartbeat stutter in her chest. “This is useful information. Your mother is quite the celebrity isn’t she? You’ll help me out during the exams, won’t you? It’d be a pity if everyone here learned that you’re the child of the Blacklist Hunter, Lyra Z-”

The computer screen shatters as Clementine puts her fist through the glass.

“ _Shut up,”_ she hisses as she yanks Nicolas by his neatly buttoned up shirt with enough force to rip the fabric. The computer hangs from her wrist like a bracelet made of twisting wires, shattered glass, and sparking embers. Distorted screeches come from the dying machine’s speakers, but Clementine is too _pissed off_ to do something about the god-awful sound.

(She doesn’t notice, but her aura churns- a hurricane coiling around a human epicenter.)

“Now listen here you _little shit_ -” She ignores the terrified whimpers that flee his mouth and pulls him close, face to face with the trembling boy. “-I can _deal_ with you looking up my records; I can _deal_ with the fact that you think you’re _good_ enough to survive the Hunter Exams when even your aura is _pathetic_ \- I can _deal_ with all that-”

The people around them have turned to watch the events unfold. There is a fascination in their eyes as well as pity for the boy she holds in a vice-grip, but Clem can’t help but notice that no one makes a move to help.

(But why would they? In the Hunter Exams, death doesn’t care who it takes- why would they?)

“-Now what I can’t stand is the fact that you think using my mother’s name as a way to _blackmail_ me is a good idea. I’m here to get my Hunter License, not my father, not my mother- _me.”_ Clem glares and her gaze is frigid. _“_ So don’t try to use my mother’s name to try to put me on a leash _again_ ; because then I’ll have no choice but to consider you an enemy.”

 

She leans close to Nicolas, finishing her speech with a quiet threat.

“I’m my mother’s daughter and she taught me never to suffer an enemy to live.”

Clem uncurls her fingers and Nicolas falls onto his hands and knees, panting.

She heavily scowls and turns on her heel, trying to pinpoint the familiar feeling of Hanzo’s aura. She leaves the blubbering boy on the floor behind her and walks off without another word.

She tries to ignore the calculating eyes of the contestants that watched her interaction with Nicolas.

(She tries to ignore the sense of foreboding that hits her when, in the corner of her vision, she sees the anomaly from the bar watching her with curled lips.)

(She tries to ignore the way her fists throb at seeing him again.)

 

* * *

 

It’s obvious that all these years she’s thought she’s matured, Clem hasn’t gotten better at controlling her temper whenever someone brings up her family.

Clem wants to hide her face in her hands and groan. She punched through a computer- which is still hissing against her wrist, now that she thinks about it- caused an enormous scene in front of the other examinees, and got nothing in turn but a (probably) traumatized kid out of it.

(She refuses to think about the weight of the anomaly’s eyes on her.)

 

Damn it, she should have known better. She should have dragged the brat to a corner and destroyed his computer with at least _some_ semblance of secrecy remaining intact. Instead, she let her temper get the better of her and practically declared to the world that her relationship between her parents was something that she didn’t want out in the open.

Her parentage has always been somewhat of a sore spot for her; a result of years of being held up to the standards her parents exceeded and being found lacking time after time. Clem likes to think of herself as someone with a decent sized temper; with anger that is relatively hard to spark. But even she’s fully aware that whenever anyone brings up her parents for the sake of threatening her or, God-forbid, insinuating that she’s only a spoiled kid hiding behind her parent’s name- it’s like a switch is flipped and all rational thoughts escape her.

It’s always been a weak point for her, one that she hoped she had grown out of; but it seems like being thought of as “just Lyra Zee’s daughter” will always lead to her temper flaring. She’s only lucky that Nicolas hadn’t had time to bring up her father because then Clementine would feel obligated to beat the everliving shit out of the kid.

Clem shakes her head and does her best to banish her musings before they have a chance to fully swan-dive into the territory of self-doubt and guilt. She has to believe that she’s good enough to pass the exams. Clem refuses to let any doubts cloud her mind when she has people that believe that she’s good enough to survive the Exams and become a Hunter. There are people that know she can do it, so that means she has to know that too.

Despite her internal reassurances- Clem is full of nervous energy.

 

The elevators are where she’s ended up in her hurry to leave the scene of her lost temper behind. She can see Beans and beside him is a group of the newly disembarked examinees.

Scanning the group, Clem can see that the fresh trio of examinees are an odd bunch.

The one that stands out the most of their group is the kid in green, not for his age but for the way his aura is so _bright_.

(He’s not the only kid she’s seen. There was that white haired kid from earlier with his aura curled around his form like a feline with bloodied claws; as if the kid was a baby carnivore and knew his place on the food chain.)

Unlike #99, this kid is practically vibrating with excitement. Clem tries to smother a grin at the fact that his aura is _literally_ humming with the energy that his small body can’t completely contain. He’s like an enthused puppy with spiky black hair- complete with the wide shining eyes.

He waves at the ocean of examinees cheerfully only to blink in confusion as they all turn away.

Everyone here is so rude, Clem thinks as she shoots the kid a smile and a thumbs up, there’s no need to be so mean just because everyone here is signed up for deadly exams. 

The boy smiles at her in turn and Clem examines his companions.

The blonde girl and the older man seem to be much more collected than the kid is.

The girl has a small smile on her lips and holds herself with poise would fool Clem if her aura didn’t reflect the opposite- an aura streaked through with grief, rage, and determination. It churns with all the feelings that the girl’s composed face hides. Clementine wonders if she’s ever met someone with such a strong rage that it’s left an imprint on their aura, one strong enough for her to sense without focusing. It’s not often that emotions are potent enough to seep into someone’s aura to the point where she can sense them at first contact. This girl must feel every emotion deeply.

Clem wonders what kind of tragedy the girl had gone through to leave such a scar on her aura and such a hard look in her gray eyes.

(She wonders if the girl’s friends know just how far her pain runs.)

 

The man in the suit isn’t very good at hiding his emotions. As she approaches, she can see all kinds of emotions flicker on his face- _anxiety, determination, pride-_ before Beans speaks up and offers him his badge. His aura isn’t as bright as that of the boy and the girl, but it feels warm- a cup of hot tea on a chilly winter night. Comforting.

He feels like the kind of man that wants to help people.

Clem is starting to think that maybe she’s gotten better at this whole aura sensing thing because it seems that she’s getting clearer readings now more than ever. Though it could honestly be that Hunter Exam candidates have stronger auras for her to get a grasp on, making it easier to pick up lingering traces of who their owners are than with weaker civilians. God knows that she can’t tell the difference between Martha and Amara at work without straining herself and giving herself a migraine.

Huh, Clem thinks, well that’s convenient. It’s a good thing she figured this out now because that means she has time to plan ahead.

The same stocky man from earlier approaches the new group, introducing himself politely. She’s struck by the fact that his face seems so familiar and the niggling feeling from earlier intensifies. It’s not his aura because that isn’t anything impressive, or memorable, but there’s just something about the guy that puts her on edge.

Clementine can hear the group talk to him, and Clem takes a moment to decide that she should probably apologize for rudely ignoring him earlier. It’ll be a chance to kill two birds with one stone; she can get more information on the man and why his face is familiar, as well as make friends with the cute kid and the duo besides him.

Determined and with a plan in mind, she walks closer to the group, overhearing the question the boy in green asks Number 16.

“That means you know a ton of people taking the exams this year doesn’t it?”

 

“Of course I do,” The man replies with a smile. “I’ll tell you about them if you want.”

Clem cocks her head in interest. _Free information?_

She joins the conversation with an intrigued hum. “Please do. Any information on other contestants will be helpful for the Exams.”

The guy in the suit frowns at Clem. The blonde girl shoots her a glance and slowly nods in agreement.

The boy in green smiles and Clem waves to him again. She’s trying to look cool right now, but being nice never really hurt anyone.

Number 16 clears his throat after offering her a polite smile. “Well, I have the most experience here, but there are a few others that have taken the exams before too.”

 

“For example, there’s #225, Todo the wrestler.” He points to a heavyset man with a bento box and a ponytail, “He’s smarter than he looks, but also said to be unmatched in strength.”

“I wonder what he’s eating,” Clem mutters under her breath, “It looks like it’d be tasty.”

“Then there is #103,” A man with a cowl and a serpent are pointed out next. “Bourbon the Snake Charmer. It’s said that you don’t want to end up on his bad side since he holds grudges and uses his snakes to attack people.”

Clem gapes at the sleek snake coiled around Bourbon’s neck. “I want one.”

“That old man there is #191, Bodoro. He’s a Kung-Fu master, and still one of the best martial artists despite his age.”

This time it’s not Clem who speaks up.

“He doesn’t look like much,” mutters the guy in the suit, “He can’t be that good.”

“Hanzo could probably kick his ass without trying,” Clem adds in agreement.

 

The rest of the group ignores the commentary.

 

“That trio over there are #197, Amori; #198, Imori; and #199, Umori. ” Clem wonders if the naming pattern is a family thing, or if it’s just a coincidence. “They’re known for their teamwork and have gotten pretty far in the exams before.”

Clem listens to the stocky man, Number 16 with a growing feeling of apprehension. There is something familiar about him that she can’t seem to place her finger on, and since she joined the group late, she missed his introduction. She has no name to match to his face and a part of Clem- which sounds oddly like her mother- is screaming at her that she’s missing something important. Something that has to do with the fact that his face feels so familiar, she just can’t _quite_ put her finger on it.

“That guy cleaning his weapon is #384 Geretta the Hunter. He specializes in killing all kinds of creatures with his blow dart and his club.”

Clem shakes her thoughts out of her head and nudges the man in the suit with a grin. “Hey, do you think that those neck-ruffles help him with his aim?”

He shoots her a disbelieving glance and takes a second look at the Geretta. His lips quirk upwards and he shakes his head. “If they do, then I think I’d rather choose another weapon than wearing those things.”

 

“The last one I can think of is #76, Cherry the Soldier; but all you have to know about him is that he’s a skilled fighter, and is good with his knives.” The man finishes with a smile.

“Hey Number 16,” Clem interrupts thoughtfully, “Did you save that guy for last because of his name? Because he ended up being the _Cherry_ on top of everything you told us.” She gets a groan from the blonde girl, and swat to the back of the head by the man in the suit. “Really guys? That was funny!.”

Number 16 forces a polite chuckle.

Clem looks at the boy in green with hopeful eyes. “Come on you know it was funny.”

Clem feels a burst of hope when he smiles at her, only to have those hopes dashed at his words.

“Sorry, but that wasn’t very funny at all.” How can he look so cute as he crushes her dreams?

It’s not fair.

 

“Fine,” she says and crosses her arms with a pout. “It’s clear none of you appreciate true humor.” She waves a hand in the air. “Carry on with what you were saying Number 16.”

“Where was I?” He blinks. “Oh yes. The people I just mentioned aren’t the only ones that have taken the exams a few times, but they’re the ones that stand out the most.”

She’s learned good information from him, she should thank him and really apologize to him for ignoring him earlier if this is the advice he offered Hanzo. Clementine gasps and four pairs of eyes snap to look at her. “Holy shit,” she exclaims, “I almost forgot the reason I came over here.”

“Number 16, I’m sorry I was so rude earlier.” She extends a bandaged hand to him. “I’d like to start over.” Clem looks to the group in front of her and smacks her forehead with her free hand. “I forgot to introduce myself to all of you didn’t I?”

 

There’s a chorus of confirmations and Clem groans in embarrassment.

“Oh God, this is terrible. My father would be pissed that I forgot my manners.” Clem sighs and shakes her head with a smile. “Okay so starting over.”

 

“My name is Clementine, but you can call me Clem. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Hi, Clem!” The boy in green exclaims. “I’m Gon. It’s nice to meet you.”

The blonde girl offers her name with a polite nod. “My name is Kurapika.”

The man in the suit answers last, tilting his head dramatically so that light reflects off the specs of his sunglasses. “And I’m called Leorio.”

Clem beams. “Hello, everyone. I hope we can all be friends.”

 

Number 16 clears his throat. “In celebration of our meeting I have something that I’d like to share with you all.”  He pulls out a can of juice out of the satchel at his side and hands them one each. “We can toast to our newfound friendship over drinks!”

“Hey, Number 16. You never told me your name,” Clem realizes after a moment, “How can I toast to our friendship if I don’t know what your name is?”

“Of course, silly me.” He tells her, “My name is Tonpa.”

Everything in Clem’s mind comes to a screeching halt. _Tonpa?_ Why does that sound so familiar? Clem tries to remember where she knows him from. She scans him fully, taking in his tanned skin, his brown hair, his thick eyebrows- and actively _searching_ for his identity. Clementine runs his name and face against every single person her mother has made her memorize and when she finds where she knows him from her blood freezes.

(Of course, it had to be her _mother’s_ black book.)

Clem glances at the can of juice in her bandaged hand and back to where Tonpa the Rookie Crusher is waiting for them to do something that will ruin their chances at the exam- drink from the juice he must have tampered with. Clem will be damned if she lets an exam drop-out destroy everything she’s worked for. She grabs hold of the computer sitting on her wrist like it’s a bastardized fashion accessory and pulls her hand out through the fist-sized hole on the screen. She’ll see if having a computer thrown at his face will make him less of a piece of shit.

Her aura churns like a rising wave and Clem can imagine that she can taste the rage in the back of her throat. But then there’s a too real taste of metallic sweetness heavy on her tongue. It’s that flavor that makes her aware of the fact that there’s an aura in the air that isn’t hers; that it’s someone else’s aura that she’s feeling right now. Her anger quickly fades as the sticky aura stirs behind her and she spins around, not hearing Tonpa’s voice asking her if she’s alright; the laptop in her white-knuckled grip forgotten.

She’s not alright- not at all- because this aura feels familiar. The flavor of it is familiar in a way that is blurred around the edges, a memory faded before it reveals its contents- and something about how it clings to her senses as they seek out the source makes the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Clementine puts a name to the taste of the aura surging from within the crowd of examinees just as a scream rings out- just as the sea of contestants part to show the source of the aura among them.

 

The anomaly appears in her line of sight and she finally puts a name to the taste…

It tastes like...

((It tastes like blood and bubble gum.))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted Clem to meet the HxH cast in a way that would be the most natural for her, so sorry for everyone who was expecting a large divergence from canon for their meeting. Considering that Clementine isn't a very serious person, interjecting herself in the middle of a conversation to make friends is just like her. 
> 
> Sorry for the cliffhanger (is it a cliffhanger?) but while I was going to make this chapter longer, the way it ended felt too right for me to add more to it. 
> 
> Anyway, if there's something you liked about the chapter in particular, or that you have questions about- feel free to leave comments below. Don't forget to Kudos as well!
> 
> Thanks for reading and see you next time!
> 
> -Love Morte_Sangriz -


	6. Clementine and the First Phase (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hisoka is a troll, the reader sees just how much of an asshole Clem is, and Clem meets a kitten with sharp claws.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or the one where the canon doesn't slightly diverge but is instead knocked completely out of the running.  
> Your actions have consequences, Clementine. Just because you don't know how things would have gone without your intervention doesn't mean you can go and screw up canon like this damn it!
> 
> (So I had a harder time writing this chapter than I should've, I just found it difficult to put words to how I wanted this chapter to go. So I apologize beforehand for any part of this chapter that sounds choppy and forced.)
> 
> On the bright side, early update for Fanfiction Author Appreciation Day! Show how much you're appreciating this story by leaving what you think about this chapter in the comments.

The man at the anomaly’s feet is screaming, throat scraped raw from his agonized shrieking. His arms are nothing more than stumps spurting blood onto the tunnel floor. He collapses to the ground and blood puddles around his unmoving form, seeping into the violet of his cloak, hanging the tang of iron in the air of the underground passage.

“Oh, how interesting.” The anomaly drawls as a cruel smirk curls his lips, “It appears as if this man’s arms have somehow disappeared.”

While most of the examinee’s eyes are glued to the fallen man, as if waiting for a sign that it was all an act and that he’s still alive; Clementine can’t tear her eyes away from the anomaly.

Clem knows that the man on the ground is dead; she knows it because the aura that had trembled so much in _pain_ has stopped and has begun to dissipate. Someone’s aura doesn’t just leave their body entirely- not unless their life is no more- aura is life energy after all and if it’s entirely gone from a body it means there’s no life left to fuel the energy.

(It’s not Clementine’s first time seeing someone die, she knows what a dying aura feels like.)

“No smoke and mirrors here folks.” He continues, eyes curved in mirth, lips curled upward, even as his voice gains a dangerous edge to it. “It seems a lesson is to be learned here. Do be careful and make sure to apologize to someone if you bump into them.”

The crowd of examinees breaks into a cacophony of whispers.

The computer creeks from the force of Clem’s fingers digging into the plastic. There’s a stinging coming from her hands. She must have pulled too much at the scabs that had formed over the cuts on her knuckles. She ignores the injuries, eyes glued on the jester as he turns away, his heels clicking loudly on the concrete as he glides from the corpse on the ground.

The vibrant red of his hair makes him easier to follow, the suit symbols on his crop top painting a target on his back that only a suicidal idiot would try to aim for. The wide berth of the crowd around him shows that even they understand that he’s far up in the food-chain.

He’s dangerous. Even a fool can see that.

The taste of blood and bubble gum fades from her palette as quickly as it appeared- the anomaly’s aura retreating from the air back to its place near his skin, purring like a creature sated but retaining the awareness of a predator. He’s much deadlier than what she had imagined that night in the bar less than four days ago.

“That psychopath is back again,” Tonpa whispers weakly from behind her. “Number 44.”

“The anomaly,” Clem murmurs softly.

“Hisoka the Magician.” Tonpa corrects. “Last year he was an almost assured candidate to pass, all until he killed an examiner he didn’t like and was disqualified.”

“Hisoka?” Clem repeats, finally having a name to put to the dangerous man she sensed days ago. She looks at the computer in her bandaged hands absentmindedly, weighing each word in her mouth consideringly before she breathes them aloud.

“Hisoka, the magician with the aura of blood and bubblegum.”

The click of heels stop.

Clementine glances up at the sudden silence. The anomaly is standing with his back towards her, but Clem sees his body swivel to look at her over his shoulder.

Hisoka’s eyes are a toxic yellow as his gaze catches hers, as recognition sparks in the amber pools melting in his irises. The smile on his face shifts, grows, changes into something different, into something sharper and he _grins_ \- the flash of teeth sending a jolt of _ohfuckohfuck_ down her spine.

Her knuckles _throb_ and a part of Clem, the part not hyper-focused on the magician, realizes that her hands are clenched so tightly around what she’s holding that they started bleeding once again. She’s ready to defend herself at this point, aura pulled tight around her in case she needs an edge.

Then he says a single sentence, the words leaving his lips in a low purr, and Clem is startled out of the defensive stance she has taken. She takes a hasty step back, bumping into Leorio behind her and gulping in a shocked breath.

_“I can’t wait to see the chaos you create this time… Clementine”_

She keeps her eyes glued to Hisoka as he turns his head away with a pleased smile and continues walking away. He disappears into the crowd and the tension drains from her body.

* * *

 

Gon pulls her from her thoughts when he asks, “You know him, Clem?”

She shrugs, trying to get the anxiety in her body under control. “Ah no, I just think he heard what I said just now. Though I don’t know how he knows my name. Maybe he overheard Nicolas saying it earlier?” She muses.

She is completely and utterly confused but Clem hasn’t stayed alive all these years without learning how to shove her panic in a corner where she can worry about it later. Clementine has no clue what she did to get the attention of the magician in the first place, but she doubts that his interest is anything good. She’s going to freak about this properly once she’s done with the Hunter Exams- because right now she’s got to get a grip or she’ll be fucked when the first phase starts.

Tonpa clears his throat and they turn their attention to him.

“We should be glad that nothing bad happened and share a toast for good luck before the exams start.” He gestures to the cans of juice held in their hands with a smile. “They say that things taste best when shared among friends. So drink up.”

Oh! She had almost forgotten about that in the Hisoka induced hysteria. She’ll have to do something about the asshole Rookie Crusher before anyone drinks his poisoned juice. Clem raises the computer consideringly, aligning it with the older man’s face before she cocks her arm back and sends the laptop flying.

The airborne tangle of shattered glass and broken plastic crash into Tonpa’s face with a loud _crunch_.

Tonpa clamps his hands down on his nose with a loud cry of pain. He scurries back from her quickly. Blood seeping from between his fingers and splattering on the floor.

“Damn, that was dead center,” Clem says with a low whistle and a self-impressed nod.

Leorio, Kurapika, and Gon stare at the wailing man for a brief moment before they turn to Clementine in various types of shock.

“That was uncalled for,” Kurapika scolds with a frown while Leorio sputters in outrage.

“Uncalled for? That’s all you have to say about that, Kurapika?” He points at the blonde with an accusing finger and snaps his eyes to Clementine, “And you! What’s wrong with you!? You just attacked him for no reason!”

Gon looks disappointed. “That was really mean, Clem. If you wanted more juice you could have just asked for another one.”

Leorio twitches and whirls to shout at Gon. “Not you too! It isn’t about the juice! It’s obvious that she’s some kind of violent psychopath, how else did the other violent psychopath know her?”

“You bring up a surprisingly intelligent argument Leorio,” Kurapika remarks.

“Yes, thank you,” Leorio says with a small nod, “anyway I think that we shouldn’t trust- WAIT WHAT DO YOU MEAN SURPRISINGLY INTELLIGENT?”

Clementine watches them bicker amongst themselves (though it’s mostly just Leorio one-sidedly shouting at the other members of his group) and chokes down a laugh.

Then Clementine has an idea.

The can of juice is still in her hand.

* * *

 

She turns to Tonpa, who at this point is doing his best to stem the flow of blood from his nostrils with the front of his shirt, stalking closer to the distracted man. She pops open the tab of the juice and rips Tonpa’s hands away from his face. His nose is swollen and unnaturally crooked, blotches of purple and red painting his skin. Clementine restrains the urge to shove his hands back to where they were at the sight. She’s not squeamish or anything, Tonpa’s nose just looks _really_ awful.

“It looks just as bad as it feels,” she tells him cheerfully before she grabs hold of his chin, pries his mouth open and pours the juice down his throat.

She gets most of the juice into him, the rest dribbling down his chin onto the bloody front of his shirt.

“Oh eww, look at the mess you made.” She complains as she lets go of his face and looks down at herself to make sure none of the fluids got on her. Clem has a moment to be thankful that she remains blood and juice-free before hands clamp down on her arms and yank her away.

Leorio moves fast and is by Tonpa’s side in an instant.

He speaks to him in a gentle voice Clem wouldn’t have expected from him if she hadn’t sensed his aura earlier. He’s trying to calm the horrified Tonpa down enough to set his nose back into place.

Leorio is a kind man, Clem can’t help but think at the sight.

Which is probably why he’s caught off guard when the subject of his care slaps his arms away and instead forces his fingers down his throat. It’s obvious that Tonpa is desperate to vomit the juice up, although Clem is pretty sure she’s the only one that knows the true reason for that desperation.

Leorio yells in concern and tries to wrench Tonpa’s fingers away from his mouth.

Yeah, Clem should probably explain herself.  Clem pulls gently against the grasp Kurapika has on her left elbow and places it on Gon’s surprisingly sturdy hold on her right forearm.

Clem clears her throat. “The juice was poisoned.”

Leorio shoots her a disbelieving glare and Kurapika, an incredulous one. Gon just tilts his head upwards and scans Clementine’s face searchingly- what he’s looking for though, she has no clue.

“Are you sure?” Kurapika asks her in a low voice.

She nods. “They call him the ‘Rookie Crusher’ of the Hunter Exams. He’s been doing the same thing for years, even during my parent’s time in the Exams, that’s how I know about him and what he does.”

Kurapika gives a thoughtful hum, “Your parents remember him after all this time?”

Clem snorts loudly, “Yeah, he gave my mother some laxative candy when she was a rookie for the exams like twenty years ago and she spent three days in the bathroom. She couldn’t take the exams that year and she’s held a grudge ever since.”

“As for my father, he never had a personal encounter with Tonpa; but he has seen the way that the Rookies Tonpa interacts with never come back to the exams. There’s been plenty of them during each of his three tries at the exams that he put together the pieces of Tonpa’s hobby of ‘breaking’ Rookies.”

“How are you so sure this is the same guy they met back then?” Leorio mutters, “You said it’s been over twenty years.”

“I’ve seen his face before,” Clementine replies with a grin.  The hands holding her arms release their grip on her and Clem sticks her tongue out childishly at Tonpa before continuing. “My mom carries around a picture of him so she can recognize him on sight and beat the shit out of him for what he did to her. I promised her that if I saw him, I’d beat him up for her though-”

The blaring of an alarm cuts her off.

Ignoring the Rookie Crusher creeping away from them during their distraction, they all turn to the wailing sound as one and blink at the thin man holding the alarm in his hands.

With a tap of his finger, the sound ceases immediately and he begins to speak. “The reception for candidates for the Hunter Exams is over.” He stands on one of the many steel pipes protruding from the wall and from this distance, the features of his face hard to make out.

“The Hunter Exams cost the lives of hundreds of examinees every year,” He tells them, hands pressed to his sides and voice carrying to all the examinees despite its softness. “A single mistake, a single missed chance, can result in your death. If you believe that it’d be better for you to wait until the next exam, then leave now. It’s better to come back than to die because you’re not prepared.”

For a moment, no one moves but then there is the sound of people moving around and Clem turns to see a trembling Nicolas step forward. Tonpa follows shortly after, clutching his stomach with a grimace, and entering the open elevator where Beans gestures to them to come in.

The crowd holds still as if to wait for more people to walk out those doors- but no one else does.

The thin man in the suit jumps down from his perch and straightens his back. He scans the remaining examinees with a steady gaze and the mustache on his face twitches.

There is something _off_ about him, Clem realizes.

“The Exams can now commence.” He says at the same time a thought bursts in her mind.

_Where in the hell is his mouth?_

* * *

 

According to Mr. Super-skinny-suit-guy, who so kindly introduces himself as Satotz, they’re to follow him. Clementine wonders how he manages to say the words when he seems to be _lacking a freaking mouth_ but considering she’s still pondering the mystery of Bean’s existence- she can’t really say she’s shocked that there is yet another thing she can’t find an answer for.

(It doesn’t stop her from burning her gaze into the back of Satotz’s head everytime he comes into her line of sight though. She _will_ have answers damn it!)

“What’s happening?” Leorio asks in bewilderment, looking at the examinees ahead of them move faster. “Are they in such a hurry to get out of here?”

“I knew something was off,” Kurapika cuts in, concern seeping into her words and swirling in her gray eyes. “Everyone is speeding up!”

Gon squints toward the front of the crowd. “The people in the front are running!”

The examiner’s steps are long and his legs swallow up the ground beneath him. Already there are people breaking into a steady run; Clementine, Gon, Kurapika, and Leorio following suit shortly after Satotz’s speed increases and simply jogging isn’t enough to keep up with the man.

“I forgot to mention one small detail,” Satotz’s tells them- his soft voice carrying all the way to the back of the mob and sounding just as clear as if the ones in the back were right beside him. “I am the examiner for the First Phase of the Hunter Exams. I am here to guide you to the Second Phase.”

The crowd _explodes_ with shouts of surprise at the confession- a few people trip over their own feet at the revelation. An oddly familiar voice- is that _Hanzo?-_ shoots a question at the man, their examiner apparently, with a startled yelp.

“The _Second_ Phase? What about the first one?”

Without a single falter in his step, Satotz replies, “The First Phase has already begun,” shocked gasps and more ripples of surprise in the crowd. “If you’re able to follow me to the site of the Second Phase, then you will have passed the first.”

“I can not tell you where or when we’ll arrive,” Satotz continues and Clem is curious as to how Hanzo will take this revelation, “You must satisfy yourselves with simply following me.”

The ninja’s aura- because that enthusiastic voice most certainly belongs to him- flutters with excitement and determination. Clem has to smile because of course, the _shinobi_ would love the suspense and challenge that comes with not knowing what will happen next.

She pulls her attention back to her surroundings in time to catch a grin- at least Clem thinks it’s supposed to be a grin even though it looks a bit more like a grimace to her- spreading across Leorio’s face. “An endurance test? It’s no problem! I’ll go wherever he does!”

“Endurance isn’t my strong suit,” Clem admits with a sheepish smile. “But I’ll do my best to keep up.” Clem’s overpacked bag bounces against her spine- reminiscent of the first preliminary of the exams- and Clementine wants to scream because it seems she can never escape cardio.

(This time she doesn’t even have Hanzo’s chatter to distract her from the atrocity that is running. From the feel of his aura, he’s all the way near the front of the stampeding crowd and Clem has no interest in wasting energy pushing her way through the dense forest of people to reach him.)

She curls her hands around the straps of her backpack and twitches at the twinge that comes from her hands. She forgot to change the bandages wrapped around her knuckles before the First Phase began. Knowing her luck- she won’t have a chance to do anything about it until they come to a stop. Clem struggles as it is to change bandages while standing still, much less while running after a mouthless man in the middle of the Hunter Exams.

At the moment there are 402 exam candidates still in the running, even after Nicolas and Tonpa’s departure. A part of her makes note that the only two people to drop out of the exams were the same that she directly interacted with. Clem doesn’t know how far the two would have gotten into the exams without her intervention but it’s too late to think about that now.

(It kinda comes with being raised by someone who hunts down other people for money but Clem has never been the type to care too much about complete strangers.)

Her parent’s shared their experiences in the exams with her before she signed up for her own and she knows that every year only a handful of examinees pass the exams; and once every blue moon it’s rookies that do so. Clementine _really_ hopes that this year is one of those rare years where rookies survive long enough to become Hunters. She’s not open to the idea of dying just yet.

This first part of the tests will be more challenging than it seems, considering 402 is a pretty huge number of candidates and the Hunter Association needs to trim the fat in order for only the best possible examinees pass. It’s probably not even _just_ an endurance test because when has Clem been that lucky- no matter how much she hates endurance and cardio.

Clem blinks at a familiar aura behind them- she must have made note of it in the gathering room- and tries to think back to who it belongs to. She _could_ turn around and look at who’s coming but do so wouldn’t be as fun as guessing and practicing her ability at the same time.

So far she’s learned one thing. Sometimes, if she focuses hard enough, auras leave impressions on her five senses. She noticed it while traveling through the forest with Hanzo and while her focus jumped from individual to individual in the gathering room.

People, even the ones with the untrained auras, leave distinct imprints on her senses.

Like how when she focuses on Gon’s aura, the rich scent of soil and fallen leaves presses itself against her nose. Like how Kurapika’s aura slides against Clem’s skin, cold and unyielding and wrapped around herself. Like how Leorio’s aura brings flashes of turquoise swirling behind her eyelids, shifting shades but remaining in the same spectrum.

(It’s a freaking awesome discovery to make but she doesn’t quite understand the implications of it quite yet.)

The aura behind her doesn’t taste like Hisoka’s bloody gum- she’s been keeping tabs on him and he’s near Hanzo in the front of the crowd- nor does it smell like cherry blossoms by the sea, so it’s not Hanzo’s either. There isn’t the low (terrifying) ringing of the guy with the needles anywhere near her either so it has to be someone else she sensed earlier.

The soft clicking of wheels sliding across concrete growing louder as someone approaches (with a creature living under skin tasting of ozone, too small to fit into the category of a _beast_ , but with sharp claws nonetheless).

Then a face flashes across her mind’s eye just before the aura breezes past them and Clem silently prays that she’s right. Being right about this and recognizing the kid’s aura would be so freaking cool.

A white head of hair speeds past them and Clementine lets out a loud whoop of joy.

_She was right!_

Kurapika shoots her an odd look from the corner of her eye before her small sound is drowned out by Leorio’s indignant shouting.

“Hey kid, that’s not allowed!” He points at the skateboard under Number 99’s feet angrily. “This is an endurance test! Riding on that is cheating!”

The boy stares blankly at Leorio.

Leorio glares back with a rapidly reddening face.

“No, it isn’t,” Gon interrupts with a confused blink. “He just told us to follow him didn’t he?”

“Whose side are you _on_?” Leorio cries.

“The only rules are that there are no rules.” Kurapika’s eyes dance with amusement despite the bland tone of her voice. Her aura sings with laughter. “Stop wasting your energy, Leorio. You’re being loud.”

Leorio turns to Kurapika with a snarl and Clementine moves out from between the two. She doesn’t get caught in the middle when Leorio starts yelling. Instead, she moves to Kurapika’s other side.

She smiles to herself when Number 99 hops off his skateboard after asking Gon’s age- which is twelve, apparently- and introduces himself as Killua.

A bit of chattering later and Killua looks past Gon to speak to Leorio. He sounds polite enough, using Sir when addressing someone who is much older than he is but then Leorio’s shouting starts up again. “What do you mean Sir? I’m a teenager too!”

Clementine blinks at the revelation while Gon and Killua exclaim, “Are you sure!?” in shocked unison.

“That’s it! I’m never talking to you guys again!” Leorio screams and storms away.

Kurapika has the good sense to quickly stride away while Killua grins from alongside Gon. Clem cocks her head in bewilderment. “What happened?”

Gon smiles at her. “Clem, did you know that Leorio isn’t as old as he looks?”

“It explains why he shouts so much,” Clem says before furrowing her brow in thought. “How old is he?”

Killua meets Gon’s eyes and they both shrug. “He didn’t say.”

* * *

 

A few hours later, around 40 kilometers into following Satotz, Clementine curses in every language she knows (it’s not that many) when Leorio falls behind, panting heavily and swiping at the sweat on his face. She hates running too but that’s not about stop her. Not to mention the fact that it feels like there’s going to be a massive bruise where her bag has slapped against her spine for the past three- or is it four- hours.

She scowls at the man that has been her running companion for the past few hours and punches him in the shoulder. “Of course you’re going to be out of breath,” she tells him, wincing when her fist throbs from the impact, “You haven’t shut up about not being as old as you look for the past hour!”

Leorio glowers at her and gulps in a huge breath. “S-Shut u-up!”

And with that he dashes ahead with reckless abandon, screaming his goal to be a Hunter to anyone that may be listening. Clem won’t be surprised if he runs out of breath shortly. Unless you’re Hanzo, it’s not a good idea to run and talk at the same time.

Thinking of Hanzo, didn’t she tell him that she would meet up with him _hours_ ago?

Guilt surges and Clem decides that she should find her friend. Making up her mind, she mutters some more curses as she sprints past Gon and Killua, smacking the back of Leorio’s head as she passes by him.

“That’s for leaving me behind you dick!” She shoots Kurapika a smile, ignoring the fuming Leorio next to her. “I’m going up ahead okay?”

Clementine feels bad for leaving Hanzo hanging for this long.

“I promised my friend that I’d meet up with him a few hours ago and never did, so I’m gonna go find him now.” She offers, receiving a nod from Kurapika and a glare from Leorio for hitting him. Clem rolls her eyes at him and looks past him to where Gon and Killua are. “I’ll meet up with you guys later okay?”

She runs ahead, leaving her newly made friends with the promise of finding them later.

Now to look for the _shinobi_ amidst the crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clem's actions will cause a ripple effect in a few chapters, considering Tonpa is out of the running for these exams and he won't be able to mess with the HxH main gang like he did in canon. 
> 
> I plan on the First Phase to span only three chapters, this one included, but we've seen how I am when I put limits like this on myself- so we'll have to see how it goes. cx
> 
> Don't forget to comment what you think about this chapter and to leave kudos. Thank you for reading!


	7. Clementine and the First Phase (Part III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author writes far too much dialogue; magicians aren't a very high friendship level, and motivations are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so the next chapter is for sure gonna wrap up the First Phase- I SWEAR!  
> Most of this chapter wrote itself actually so here, enjoy additional 2k words to my average of 4k.  
> Just a warning. This chapter is very dialogue heavy.  
> I apologize for those who expected some action in this chapter.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter but let me know what you think in the comments below.

Hanzo is in the middle of regaling the examinees around him with his twelfth story when their legs buckle beneath them and they fall to the ground with a thud. He pauses for a second, prods the limp bodies with his foot and deems them unable to continue running any further. He wonders, for a split second, whether he should take the time to move the unconscious examinees out of the way of the oncoming herd of people before he shrugs and leaves them where they are.

He’s pretty sure that they won’t be trampled by the oncoming crowd. It’s not like three fully grown men hard to notice, especially if they’re sprawled as messily as these are. Either way, it’s not as if they’re any of his concern. He should be finding someone else to chatter with so he’s not bored during the rest of the run, considering Clementine has yet to make an appearance. 

Clem may hate running- she made that perfectly clear after the first preliminary- but Hanzo knows that disliking something isn’t the same as being bad at it. He’s pretty optimistic that Clem will catch up to him at some point. He just doesn’t feel like being bored until she decides to show.

Around him, there are plenty of people that he can decide to talk to in order to curb his boredom until Clementine comes. He doesn’t want someone who will pass out in the middle of his story again though; and who knows if Clem will meet up with him in this first phase- it’s already been hours.

Hanzo is dead-set on curbing his boredom via conversation. The only question now is who is interesting enough to talk to for the remainder of the first phase. 

He sneaks a glance to his left. 

The man running on that side of him doesn’t seem to be sweating  _ too _ bad. His face is creased in concentration and his breathing isn’t as even as Hanzo would like. He prefers it when the people he talks to actually talk back, otherwise it just gets boring- no matter how much he enjoys talking about himself. 

Hanzo would rather have someone more…  _ interactive.  _ But an audience is an audience and if the man on the left is his only option as a conversational partner then he’ll have no choice but bear with it the best he can. He wishes Clementine would hurry up and catch up. She’s capable of replying to him while running- despite how much she detests running in the first place- and Hanzo has found that he’s gotten attached to her in the short time they’ve traveled together.

The only reason he doesn’t sigh is that ninja aren’t supposed to reveal what they’re thinking to those around them. Hanzo has never been the best at that part of the  _ shinobi _ lifestyle, his forehead hurts  _ thinking _ about all the times he’s had stones tossed at it for not keeping a blank expression on his face, but he has enough self-control to hold back a sigh.

A look to his right reveals a more interesting pool of people to choose from than his left did.

The man running on his right is a much better choice for a conversational partner than the man on his left is. He, like Hanzo, hasn’t broken a sweat at the hours of running they’ve partaken in and his breathing is smooth and even. Hanzo greatly approves of the man’s vitality and enthusiasm for the exams. 

Why else would he have a smile on his face? 

He knows that most people don’t see him as a major threat and that’s something Hanzo appreciates. Being underestimated makes his life as a  _ shinobi _ much easier. Plus there’s the fact that most people don’t enjoy being approached by threatening strangers. 

The man glances at him from the corner of his eye. The smile on his face does not waver at the unexpected attention he finds on him from the bald ninja and Hanzo takes this as his chance to move closer. 

“Hello, fellow examinee!” He calls with a grin and meets the redhead’s yellow eyes with his own. Hanzo doesn’t flinch at the intensity of the other man’s gaze, though he does seem somewhat familiar. “You seem to be a very capable competitor. I don’t usually see such vitality in people other than myself and that’s because I’m a ninja from Jappon.” 

“I had a companion on the way here that was marvelous company but at the moment she’s busy elsewhere…” Hanzo trails off as thoughts of Clementine’s whereabouts cross his mind. He perks up after a moment and continues his speech. “So I decided it would be best to find a suitable companion to ease the monotony of this first phase of the exams. You seem to be as equally bored with this running as I am. Would you mind being my temporary conversational partner?”

As the last of Hanzo’s words leave his lips, the man who he has turned his spew of words on turns his head in Hanzo’s direction. He lets out an intrigued hum and Hanzo gapes as the realization of who he’s been talking to strikes him.

“Y-You’re that guy-” He shouts and gesticulates wildly to get his words across. “-the one that killed that other examinee earlier. What did people say your name was?” The ninja pauses and crosses his arms as he thinks it over, quickly muttering names under his breath- much to the magician’s amusement.

The  _ shinobi _ snaps his fingers as the name comes to him. “It was Hisoka wasn’t it?”

“It’s bad manners to ask someone a question without introducing yourself first,” Hisoka tells him, voice dry in a way that leaves Hanzo flushing in embarrassment. The magician gracefully swerves to avoid stepping on one of the bodies that drop in front of him and Hanzo does the same when the person in front of him crumples to the ground.

“I can’t believe I didn’t introduce myself,” Hanzo says with a horrified gasp when they reconvene and quickly launches into an introduction. “My name is Hanzo and I’m a  _ shinobi _ from Jappon. My favorite food is rice since it’s the easiest thing to cook as well as being inexpensive. I enjoy sparring under the Japponese cherry blossoms and training to become a more proficient ninja. I’m taking the Hunter Exams so I can find a secret scroll which is hidden in a Hunter-restricted region and made the trip with the friend I mentioned earlier- the one which still has to catch up. I’m not quite sure what could be holding her up all this time but knowing how she is, she probably made new friends.”

“Anyway,” Hanzo says with a shake of his head, “It’s nice to meet you, Hisoka.”

Hisoka’s lips curl into a dangerous smile. “Are  _ shinobi _ strong?” He asks intrigue bleeding into his toxic yellow eyes and -unbeknownst to those around him- his aura stirring from under his skin. 

Hanzo, as oblivious as ever, nods enthusiastically. “Only the strongest are allowed to take the title of  _ shinobi _ .”

“In that case,” Hisoka purrs in delight, “I’d love to see how strong you are.”

Hanzo takes that as his personal invitation to start a conversation about the basic principles of  _ Ninjutsu  _ that he is allowed to tell to outsiders. He doesn’t go into much detail about the training he’s gone through but is sure to mention that he still has much to learn before he can truly become the master of  _ Ninjutsu _ he aspires to be.

“Oh!” Hanzo exclaims after a second of thinking about what to share next, “Let me tell you about the exciting journey to the exam site I faced with the friend I made during the first preliminary. It started after I traveled to York New from Jappon days before the exams were due to begin and-”

Hanzo’s voice fills most of the silence. Hisoka barely says a word.

* * *

Far behind the ninja who talks too much and the magician who responds only in hums and purrs- Clementine Zee-Amõs runs towards the front of the examinees and hopes that her friend didn’t really decide to talk to the guy that has one of the bloodiest auras she’s ever sensed. 

Knowing Hanzo though, Clem is sure that’s exactly what he did. 

Moments later, when Hanzo is finally within her line of sight, Clementine heaves a heavy sigh and turns her eyes upwards. She’s not entirely sure how to approach Hanzo now that she’s confirmed his newest conversational partner as Hisoka. There’s a contradiction of emotions bubbling up inside her. 

She’s pretty sure that most people wouldn’t feel both fear and pride at interacting with such a dangerous person. The fear is expected- it’s a very natural response when being faced with a predator that doesn’t bother to clean the blood on its fur before turning its eyes to potential prey. But the pride she feels from having someone stronger than her acknowledge her ability to create chaos from scratch; to have it be  _ her _ name to be coming out of such a dangerous person’s mouth; drowns out a lot of her reservations.

She’s not really sure if that’s normal or not.

Clementine thinks she can now understand why- when faced with people whose auras overwhelm, who are so clearly strong, who are dangerous down to their very core- it is that her mother  _ grins  _ when her name escapes the lips of the ones she’s been hunting. It’s not an awful thing to have in common with her mother. She’d rather have that than the crazy look her father gets in his eyes and the anticipatory shiver that runs through his aura when he sees how deadly the animal he’s hunting truly is. 

Maybe Clem’s weird reaction to danger is just a family thing. She once heard someone say that normalcy is subjective before her mother punched the guy in the mouth and told him to shut up- but it kinda sounded like the start of something profound. 

It makes her feel a lot better about her conflicted swirl of emotions in regards to Hisoka and the beast that lives under his skin.

Great!

Now that she’s sorted out the panic from earlier- though the only reason she bothered to do that now is that there is nothing dangerous about this First Phase so far and she’d rather not be distracted later on- she can approach Hisoka and Hanzo with a clear head.

Actually, Clem thinks with a blink of surprise, Hisoka is a man that has such a personal relationship with murder that it has left a permanent imprint of blood on his aura. What that means is that the entire time she’s been mulling over how to approach the duo in front of her; her friend has been talking to a literal serial killer. She still has no idea what she’s going to say to Hisoka about his strange comment earlier but…

“Friends don’t let friends talk to serial killers all by themselves,” Clem mutters as she moves to Hanzo’s left side after waiting for the man already running there to collapse. She makes sure not to accidentally step on this one like the two men she trampled a mile or two ago when she was distracted by the feeling of Hanzo’s aura moving closer to Hisoka’s. 

She catches the tail-end of what Hanzo is saying but it’s enough to make her cheeks flush with heat. “-so turns out that she had actually stabbed what was supposed to be our guide to the exam. Sensei always said that when attacking someone, only a fool would be upset at being attacked in turn. She acted in a very  _ shinobi _ fashion and-”

“Was  _ shinobi _ enough to convince you to teach her more about the way of  _ Ninjutsu _ ?” She asks innocently and grins when the ninja’s head jerks to look at her so fast that his neck lets out a painful crack. 

Clem still isn’t sure how to react around the dangerous jester but honestly- it’s exhausting trying to act in a cautious way, it’s outside of her nature to plan things so carefully. Come to think about it. Most of the plans she makes don’t work out very well either, so maybe she should take that as a sign to just act in the most natural way she can. It’s not even like Hisoka is the first dangerous person she’s been exposed to. There’s Hanzo; her parents; all the people that have held her for ransom when she got kidnapped while tagging along with her mother in her hunts; so Hisoka isn’t really the scariest person Clem has had the fortune- or is it misfortune- of meeting.

What the hell is there to worry about then? The most that can happen is being brutally murdered by a man with a bubble gum aura- but this is Hunter Exams, death is already an active risk in her life already.

“Clem! You’re here!” Hanzo cheers loudly, “What took you so long?”

“I made friends!” She tells him, equally cheerful. “You’ll like them I think.” 

Hanzo looks thoughtful. “I suppose you could introduce me to your new friends later. I’m quite curious to see what kind of people managed to keep you entertained for the last few hours.” Clem nods, making a mental note to drag Hanzo to where everyone else was and properly introducing him to them. 

“I’m also curious,” Clem’s gaze flickers to where Hisoka watches their interaction with bright eyes, “About the company you’ve chosen to keep while I’ve been away.”

“This is Hisoka, the guy who killed that other examinee earlier.” Hanzo casts a glance between her and Hisoka, his brow furrowing in contemplation. She’s guessing that means that Hanzo didn’t see her interaction with the magician a few hours ago, then. Hanzo’s words take a moment to register but when they do she can’t smother her amusement.

“Hanzo, that’s an awful way to introduce someone. I shudder to think of how you describe me to people.” Clem teases with a grin. “And I know who he is. I was right there when he murdered the purple cape guy.” She directs her next words at the magician. “By the way, killing someone in front of a crowd isn’t the best way to make a good impression, you know. ”

“Not even a ‘Hello, Hisoka?’ ” The jester asks jokingly, pressing one of his hands to his heart dramatically. “I  _ know _ I heard you say my name earlier-” There’s an odd glint in his eyes as he continues, “-as well as other interesting things.”

Clem’s blood quickens. Oh fuck, he’s talking about what she said about his aura earlier. 

She  _ really _ doesn’t want that to become common knowledge during the exams. She hasn’t even made Hanzo aware of her sensing abilities; Clem knows that the devastated puppy face he’s bound to give her if she tells someone else about her ability before him will crush her in guilt. 

There’s no way in hell she’s going to willingly put herself through that- so Clem blurts out the first thing that comes to her. 

“You’re not at a high enough friend level to ask me about that.” 

Clementine’s face contorts in horror at the words that come out of her mouth while Hisoka looks slightly taken aback. For a second, the only sound around the trio is the rhythm of the other examinee’s footsteps pounding the concrete underfoot. The moment doesn’t last for long; broken by Clementine’s mortified apologies and the undignified choking sounds coming from Hanzo’s mouth.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” Clem cries, “I swear I didn’t mean to sound like a twelve-year-old. I’m an adult. I really am I swear-  _ Hanzo stop laughing at me! _ ” She covers her face with her hands and groans loudly. She jabs Hanzo in the ribs with her elbow because he won’t  _ stop laughing  _ and wonders how it was that she was concerned about the ninja being alone with the serial killer magician. “This is horrible. I’ve dishonored my family.”

Hisoka chuckles. His voice is smooth tenor that makes Clem even  _ more _ aware of how childish she just sounded. “Just what friend level am I at exactly?” 

“You’re currently at level 1,” She scowls, “Because I’ve never talked to you before and you still knew my name. Plus I get the feeling that you know more about me than I do you and that’s kinda creepy.”

“Oh?” The smile on Hisoka’s face sharpens dangerously. “I was under the impression that you knew something about me that I hadn’t mentioned anywhere near you- if I’m remembering your comment from earlier correctly, that is.”

Hisoka’s aura stirs around him, just the slightest bit, but it’s enough for Clem to taste bubble gum on her palate and for her own aura to curl protectively around herself. 

“You need to work on how you try to increase your friendship level because this approach isn’t gonna work very well.” She confesses, that same whirl of anticipation and fear from earlier- when Hisoka first said her name- swirling inside her.

God, she’s going to get herself killed at this rate. If not by Hisoka, then by her mother if she hears of how reckless Clem is being with her life right now. Clem doesn’t know why her common sense isn’t rearing its head but she’s hoping that it decides to intervene sooner than later, otherwise she’ll pull a page from her mother’s book of things not to do and end up picking a fight she can’t win.

Hanzo, bless his soul, isn’t oblivious enough to not notice the mounting tension. He grabs Clementine by the wrist- careful to not hurt her already injured hands- and says loudly, “Well, look at those stairs coming up!” He tugs on her arm gently. “You better introduce me to your new friends now Clem, before the exams have a chance to get too hard.”

Clem carefully nods. It would be best to leave before she does something to rile up the serial killer too much. 

She’s on the verge of leaving without a second glance but something ( _ a burst of fearlessness? A desire to make the beast within the man remember her name as well? _ ) stops her.

Clementine meets Hisoka’s eyes, meets the molten gold swimming in his irises; tastes the iron and sweetness of his aura pressing down on her tongue; and  _ smiles _ . 

Taunting death with a smile- she thinks in that instant; drinking in the sight of how the black in those brilliant eyes shrinks to a pinprick- what a dangerous thing to inherit. 

Like mother, like daughter they say.

This is the first time Clem has felt like they’re right.

* * *

“Oh god Hanzo, he’s going to kill me.” Clem whispers after her blood has a chance to stop buzzing in her veins and they’ve left Hisoka where they found him- near the front of the crowd. 

“It wasn’t wise to taunt him like that,” Hanzo chides but softens upon seeing her stricken expression. “It didn’t seem that he wanted to kill you. He seemed more curious than anything.”’

Even from here, she can feel Hisoka’s aura gain a hungry edge to it, like an animal catching the scent of possible prey. It’s a miracle that he didn’t decide to follow them to get the answers he wants from her, but she doesn’t have the heart to mention that to Hanzo, who is doing his best to cheer her up. 

The scent of forest is moving quickly up the stair and with it, the flavor of static charged metal- reminiscent of the sharp scent of ozone- that presses on her taste buds. Gon and Killua passed them only moments ago but the imprint of their auras on her senses still linger. The duo was too entrapped by whatever competition they’re having to notice that they flew past her.

She’s not bothered by it. 

It just means that she has to track a different aura signature to find the others.

Clem’s senses scan the crowd behind her before locking onto the shifting shades of blue of Leorio’s aura; as well as the cold slide of Kurapika’s aura against her skin. She taps Hanzo’s arm to tell him that her new friends are fast approaching from behind them and thankfully, the ninja doesn’t ask her how she knows where they’ll come from.

Clem knows that she’ll have to tell him about her ability soon, but she’d rather do it in a place with a bit more privacy. Not in the middle of a running mob of strangers.

The pair runs right past her. She takes note that Kurapika has forgone the heavy tunic she was wearing earlier and decided to run in underclothes much easier to move in. Leorio, on the other hand, lacks a shirt entirely. 

The sight makes her blink before a wicked grin spreads across her lips. She shifts her bag onto her front and hastily digs out the water bottle she knows she has in her backpack. Pressing a finger to her lips to quiet Hanzo’s snickering, Clementine rights her bag to where its place on her back and twists open the water bottle’s cap.

She reaches and dumps the water over Leorio’s head. 

He jumps with a shocked yelp.

A second later, a shout of outrage leaves the tall man as he snaps his head back to glare behind him. Water drips from his hair and washes away the sweat that had beaded on his face from the climbing of the stairs. “WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE-” he snarls but stops at seeing who it is that’s behind him. 

Clem grins, “If you’re hot enough to think wearing only a tie is a good idea, then chances are you probably needed that.”

Leorio bristles all over again. “I’ll show you hot enough-” 

“Did you find your friend?” Kurapika asks her, cutting off Leorio smoothly as ever. 

Clem gestures to Hanzo besides her, “I brought him over so you guys could meet him.”

“My name is Kurapika,” the blond introduces herself with a small smile. 

Her aura feels friendly enough, Clem thinks. The cold slide of her aura doesn’t feel resistant to Hanzo’s presence and a weight she hadn’t noticed lifts off Clementine’s shoulders. Leorio’s aura flickers with indignation and irritation that shows clearly on his face. He doesn’t feel hostile towards Hanzo though and for that Clem is thankful. She doesn’t know what she’d do if her friends didn’t like each other. All she has to do now is introduce Hanzo to Gon.

A finger poking her cheek pulls her out of her thoughts. “And you said  _ I _ was terrible at introducing people,” Hanzo complains. He turns his attention to an amused Kurapika. “It’s nice to meet you Kurapika. I am Hanzo, a  _ shinobi  _ from Jappon.”

Leorio twitches, “DON’T JUST IGNORE ME!”

“Why don’t you introduce yourself then?” Clem tells him with a laugh.

She tries- and fails- to bite back a grin as Leorio mutters under his breath about how much of a waste of energy a conversation is, before straightening his back and meeting Hanzo’s eyes. 

“My name is Leorio and don’t you forget it.” He announces boldly.

“Hanzo is the person I traveled to the exams with,” Clem declares cheerfully, rolling her eyes at the macho display. “We chased down a train together.”

“A  _ train? _ ” Leorio cries, water dumped on him forgotten. “Why did you chase down a  _ train _ !?”

The ninja answers with a cheerful, “Because it didn’t stop for us to get on, of course!”

Kurapika looks intrigued. “Was that part of the preliminaries you had to pass to get here?”

Clementine nods and lets Hanzo do most of the talking. 

Hanzo’s voice makes the monotony of placing one foot before the other on the next step much easier to bear. He’s a wonderful storyteller, even if he does talk a _ smidge _ too much. He explains the way the preliminaries he and Clem faced together went; only pausing to answer some of the questions thrown his way. 

“Wait. Let me get this straight.” Leorio directs her way after Hanzo is reaching the end of his retelling of their journey to the exams. “You broke someone’s wrist in the second part of the preliminaries and stabbed another guy in the third part?”

Kurapika laughs, “Not to mention what she did to Tonpa in the waiting room.”

Hanzo cocks his head. He hasn’t heard about that yet. 

With a single well-placed inquiry towards Leorio, he gets the full story- plus some marvelous embellishments- that has Hanzo wiping away tears of mirth. “Wow Clem, you’re more violent that you seem!”

“It sounds worse than it actually was,” she complains, tossing the emptied water bottle at the bald ninja’s head. She puffs out her cheeks. “Anyway, it’s good that I’m easily underestimated. I’m planning on becoming a Blacklist Hunter so looking harmless is just an advantage for the future.”

All of her companions blink in surprise. Ripples of shock run through their auras and Clem can’t help but pout. Does nobody expect her to say that’s her goal or something?

“That is actually quite unexpected,” Kurapika tells her, voicing what the others were thinking aloud. “What’s your reason for choosing that Hunter specialization?”

“Well,” Clem starts, “I would say that I chose it to rid the world of all the bad people out there but that’d be a lie. I’m not that selfless.” She pauses thoughtfully. “I think that I want to do it so I’m able to fight beside my parents and for them to see me as an equal and not just their daughter.”

“That’s reasonable,” Kurapika murmurs. “Becoming a Blacklist Hunter is also a goal of mine.”

“I need a Hunter license to retrieve a secret  _ shinobi _ scroll that’s hidden in a Hunter-only accessible place,” Hanzo says sheepishly. “I haven’t actually given much thought about what kind of Hunter Specialization I plan on focusing on afterward.“

“I’m just in it for the money,” Leorio declares and ignores the contemplative look Kurapika gives him. Clementine would honestly believe him if the color of his aura hadn’t rippled so suddenly at his words. There is something more to what Leorio is saying than just money. His aura feels too  _ warm _ , is too much of a soothing blue, for his largest concern to be money.

She’s sensed auras full of greed before and Leorio’s aura is nothing like them.

“I don’t think that’s it at all,” Clem muses aloud, watching as a tension jolts down his body so clearly that it’s impossible that Kurapika and Hanzo don’t see it as well. 

“She’s right,” Kurapika tells him, “I’ve only known you for a few days but there are things I’m absolutely sure of. You may not be the smartest person, or the most motivated-”

“-Or the strongest-” Hanzo adds helpfully.

“-Or the funniest-” Clem chimes in because they may be having a moment but she’ll be damned if making Leorio’s face turn such a vivid red loses its novelty.

“JUST GET TO THE POINT ALREADY!” Leorio shouts, vein pulsing on his temple violently.

“Not very patient either,” Clem mutters under her breath.

“Yes, well.” Kurapika clears her throat loudly. “There is something I do know- and that is that you’re not a bad person at all. I’ve seen people that only live for money and you’re not like them.”

Leorio takes a deep breath that has nothing to do with the strenuous exercise they’re all partaking in and his aura feels as if it’s deliberating something. 

Kurapika’s is the same.

Clementine feels like she’s intruding on something private and a look at Hanzo’s face tells her he feels the same. She doesn’t have a chance to evacuate before Kurapika breaks the silence that has fallen upon them with two words.

“Scarlet eyes,” Kurapika says and her words are weighed by such sudden despair that Clem is surprised the blonde girl doesn’t stumble on the stairs. “That’s the reason my clan was slaughtered.”

“I don’t think I’m at a high enough friend level to be hearing this,” Clementine breathes in horror, “I’m just going to step away while you talk about this.” She grabs ahold of Hanzo’s shirt and tugs on it to signal their strategic retreat when Kurapika lets out a small chuckle.

“It’s okay for both of you to hear this,” she tells them, “It’s no secret what happened to my clan and I’d rather you heard it from me than somebody else. Plus, Gon trusts you Clem; and Gon is an excellent judge of character.”

“The Kurta clan,” Kurapika begins, “Had a distinct feature, different from any other clan that exists- our scarlet eyes. This color appears only when we experience overwhelming emotion and remain even after death- and is considered one of the most beautiful colors of the world. And it is because of that-” Kurapika’s hands curl tightly into fists, chest heaving. “-Because of that-”

“-That the Phantom Troupe destroyed your clan?” Leorio finishes softly.

Clementine’s breath catches in her throat. 

The Phantom Troupe?

“When I found the bodies, all that was missing were their eyes.” Kurapika breathes and spits the next words with so much venom that Clem flinches back. “I  _ will  _ hunt down the Phantom Troupe and regain the lost eyes of my brethren.” 

This is the first time in a very long time that Clementine has been left speechless. 

What is she supposed to say to someone mourning an entire clan? Sorry for your loss? 

Nothing she says will ever be enough to ease the pain that is entwined with Kurapika’s aura, Clem has no idea what that kind of loss feels like- much less have the first idea as to how to soothe it.

“I’m sorry,” Leorio tells Kurapika, “But my motives aren’t as noble as yours. My only goal is money.” He averts his eyes and continues. “Everything can be bought with money- items; dreams; and even lives.”

“You can’t really believe that, Leorio.” Clem cuts in before Kurapika has the chance to. “I can tell you’re the kind of person that want to help others. You’re not interested in money!” She leaves where she got her information unsaid.

Leorio explodes. “It doesn’t matter if want to help others or not! I  _ need  _ money to make sure that no one dies like my friend did. The disease was curable, but the surgery for it was too expensive!”

“I decided to become a doctor so that I could one day tell the parents of all those children with the same disease ‘Oh don’t worry, it’s free of charge.’” He grits his teeth in anger. “But I was too naive. I didn’t know that to become a doctor you needed even more money!”

Leorio’s voice cracks as he says, “You see? I need money! Lots and lots of money!”

Clementine feels Kurapika’s aura lose a lot of its tension and she swears that she sees a small smile on the girl’s face. It’s nice to know what everyone’s motivation for taking the exam is, Clem thinks. 

“Sharing your life stories gives you a lot of friendship points,” Clementine says because she doesn’t seem to be capable of keeping her mouth shut. “Congratulations guys, you’re all at friendship level number eight now.” 

She doesn’t bother to dodge the smack to the back of her head that Leorio gifts her; choosing to grin at Hanzo and Kurapika instead.

They climb the rest of the stairs in an amiable silence. 

(When they’re at the top, Clem asks Hanzo if he’s okay. It’s not normal for him to be silent for so long, she tells him. Her inquiry ends with a flick to the forehead and an assurance that he’s a ninja- that means that he’s fully capable of being quiet, thank you very much.)

* * *

Breathing is much more fulfilling aboveground.

Fresh air is something that Clem had taken for granted before entering the first exam site. Being stuck underground with approximately four hundred other people- as they run, sweat, and pant- for  _ hours _ has made her much more appreciative of the simple things. 

Simple things- like the breeze that greets her upon setting foot outside of the tunnel at last and the large gulp of  _ clean _ cool oxygen that she drags into her lungs. Blades of grass bend easily under the weight of her boots and Clementine has to restrain the urge to fling herself onto the damp grass. If she sits down then there’s very little chance she’ll want to get back up.

Gon and Killua are sprawled on the ground near the tunnel exit. Leorio is panting heavily beside her, hands on his knees as he does his best to catch his breath and Kurapika has a slight flush to her cheeks but otherwise looks as if she hasn’t been running for the past five to six hours. Clem feels a jolt of envy. She’s covered in a sheen of sweat, that while not as bad as Leorio’s, shows that cardio isn’t her strong point.

Kurapika asks Gon as to whether or not this is the end of First Phase but when he replies with a negative, Clem wilts in disappointment. She absolutely abhors running and it pains her to know that there’s more of it yet to come. At least she’s not alone in this. 

Cardio, like many things, is much more manageable when done with friends.

“Gon, Killua,” She says with a kind smile after she’s done with her self-pity at the thought of more running. “This is my friend, Hanzo.”

The duo blink at the ninja in curiosity and Hanzo takes that as a sign that he should introduce himself in his signature way. The ninja’s usual introduction involves a lot of smiling and talking. 

Mini-lessons on the country of Jappon aren’t uncommon either.

Clem snorts at her friend’s exuberance and turns her attention to her surroundings.

She looks past where the crowd of examinees has gathered around their mouthless examiner and gapes at the vast expanse of vegetation and fog that lies ahead.

It’s a breathtaking view. 

Trees stretch out as far as the eye can see. The tangled branches peeking over the waves of fog are covered in thick leaves, while the backdrop is filled with undulated mountain ranges. Azure skies peek through the heavy clouds overhead, complementing the ocean of viridescent vegetation and pale fog with its brilliant hue.

Satotz’s voice cuts through Clementine’s marveling with ease. “The Second Phase is located inside this swamp. You’ll have to follow me to its location.”

Inside the swamp? How are they expected to follow him to the second site when the fog is thick enough to obscure anything not five feet in front of them? 

All around her, auras grow plump with fear and anticipation. 

Her senses are overflowing with the amount of willpower present; with the cocktail of flavors erupting in her mouth; with the decadent perfume pressing against her nose; with the explosion of colors that dance behind her eyelids; with the caresses on her skin that are everything from far too cold and much too hot. Adrenaline pounds through her veins.

Clem feels lightheaded from all the exposure.

“The animals that live here are ruthless predators that rely on deceit to capture their prey,” Satotz informs them seriously. “They’ll have no problem eating a human for lunch if you’re not careful. A wrong step can result in your death.”

Behind them, a steel door slams down, blocking their way back and leaving the examinees with only one choice- to move forward into the foggy marsh. 

“Welcome to the Numere Wetlands,” Satotz tells them, “The Swindler’s Swamp.”

This is where the true danger begins, Clementine realizes with a jolt. This is where people will have to prove their strength or become another number in the final list of casualties that are reported in the Hunter Exams every year. 

The grin that creeps across her face has too many teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clementine riles up a bloodthirsty magician and gets a little high on the aura of other people.  
> You know, the usual.
> 
> Also, I have fanart! You can look at them if you follow the links below.
> 
> http://beingqueer247.deviantart.com/art/Subjective-image-of-Clem-1-700224660  
> http://beingqueer247.deviantart.com/art/Clem-and-the-Bean-700224298
> 
> Don't forget to leave kudos and to leave a comment on what you think about this chapter!  
> Thank you, everyone, that's taken the time to read about Clementine's journey. See you next time!


	8. Clementine and the First Phase (IV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the word fog is used far too many times; our boi Hisoka is just as creepy as always, and Leorio makes bad decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm pretty late with this one and I'm so sorry for the delay. I don't even have a good reason for it either lol. Cx  
> Just a heads-up, I'll be participating in NaNo this month, so the next chapter might be pretty short. 
> 
> Thank you for all who took the time to read this story so far!

“Huh,” Clem says as her senses finally settle down and she’s able to focus on something besides the anticipatory thrumming the blood in her veins, “I must have been really distracted to not have noticed that sooner.” 

She thinks that maybe she would believe the mysterious man that just popped out the fog was their true examiner if she wasn’t able to feel the bland and untouched aura that seeps from his pores. Clementine thinks that if she didn’t have her sensing to cut through the disguise of the thing in front of her then maybe she would also be one of the examinees that turn to Satotz with declarations of “I knew he didn’t walk like a human”. 

From the years Clementine has had her ability, she’s learned that it’s impossible to confuse the aura of an animal with that of a human. There’s just something about the aura of nonhuman creatures that  _ somehow _ makes it impossible for her senses to confuse it is human. It’s something that she never really foresaw as helpful until today; when the loud shouting of something pretending to be human drags her out of the adrenaline high that had been wrapped around her not even a moment ago.

The fog-born creature looks human. But to Clem, he feels just like the creature he holds up in front of him, like the Man-Faced Ape he frantically accuses Satotz of being. 

He feels like an  _ animal. _

It’s a cause of concern sure- but right now her attention is on something she didn’t notice much earlier. Like the fact that the creatures of the wetlands have them completely surrounded. It’s something more important to think about than the thing wearing the face of a man trying to undermine everything Satotz  _ just  _ warned them about the deception of the creatures in the Numere Wetlands.

There are different species of creatures hiding amidst the thick white fog, watching them, waiting for their turn to try and lure as many of the exam candidates as they can. Was she so distracted by the auras of the people around her that she missed the animals stalking closer? 

Out here, something as simple as that will get her killed. 

Clementine has to be more cautious if she wants to live long enough to accomplish her goal of becoming a Blacklist Hunter. The dead aren’t very capable of much besides decaying and Clem has too much to do to just lay around and rot. 

She casts a quick glance at her friends to make sure they haven’t been fooled by the mystery man/creature’s acting and feels her fingers twitch at seeing the gullible expression on Hanzo and Leorio’s faces. She’s relieved in seeing that at least Kurapika has enough common sense to not immediately trust the word of a random stranger in a place called the freaking Swindler’s Swamp, and luckily Killua has done her a favor and smacked some sense into a way too trusting Gon. 

She ignores the fact that she  _ just _ admitted to herself that she would have fallen for the deception as well if it wasn’t for her ability and stomps her way to the gaping duo of idiots for the satisfaction of smacking them on the back of the head. 

Clem has to admit that there’s just something cathartic about the sputtering sounds Leorio makes when she does something to pester him. Just like there’s something about the kicked puppy look Hanzo shoots her after she calls the two of them “a pair of idiots” that makes her lips quirk into a grin. 

“That’s not the examiner,” she tells them bluntly, doing her best to look grim even though she’s very clearly fighting down a smile. “It’s not even human.” Eyes turn in her direction quickly and Clem blinks at being the sudden center of attention. “What?”

“Other people heard what you just said,” Kurapika tells her with an exasperated sigh. “I imagine they want to know how you would know something like that.”

Clementine carefully does not grimace and glares at the examinees looking at her. “You guys should focus on the mystery fog man instead of on me.”

Said mystery fog man seems to have heard her too, judging by how he pivots his finger to point in her direction accusingly. “How do we know that you aren’t one of these animals in disguise? You were awfully quick to defend that _im_ _ postor _ over there.” He spits out in outrage.

She opens her mouth to shoot a scathing retort the creature’s way when a burst of aura coats her tongue in sweetness and something cuts through the air with a hiss. There is only one person she’s met with that specific flavor to their aura- with that bubble-gum sweetness and iron tang that coats the thrown objects.

If she had blinked, she would have missed it. 

(But she doesn’t.)

Playing cards, the same kind she handles almost every day at work, slice through skin and flesh and embed into the bone with a wet thunk. In the second it takes for the false examiner to die, Clem’s breath catches in her throat as she sees  _ him _ reflected in the beast’s wide, surprised, unregistering eyes. Then, blood spurts out of the creature’s wounds and its eyes roll back into its skull, taking with it the bright yellow gaze that had watched intently as it died. 

The crowd of examinees breaks into harsh whispers. A flock of vultures descends from where they were circling in the air above and fall upon the quickly cooling corpse with ravenous ferocity. Clem twitches at the sound of Hisoka’s hum because really, this is the second thing she’s seen the guy kill in the past day and his aura always shows her  _ just _ how much he enjoys killing things. 

“Well, that clears things up,” Hisoka drawls and points to the fallen creature, his lips curled in a smirk. “That one is the impostor and you-” He turns vivid golden eyes onto Satotz, who does not seem amused by how things have turned out. “-are the real one.”

Clem doesn’t think that she’d be very amused by having a random forest creature accuse her of being a fake either. Or having someone try killing her out of the blue with nothing more than playing cards. 

“That is correct,” Satotz says, cards held between his fingers and voice not revealing any of the irritation that Clem feels in his aura. “Though I must warn you that if you attack me again, I’ll be forced to disqualify you from this year’s Exam.”

Clem isn’t sure that she’d be so quick to forgive someone trying to kill her but it’s not any of her business whether or not Satotz lets Hisoka continue with the Hunter Exams. 

Later she will realize that it is _much_ of her business- but as it happens, Clem just shrugs off the chill that goes through her spine at that thought and does her best to keep track of Satotz as he says something she doesn’t catch, turns to face the sea of gray of Numere Wetlands, and runs into the fog.

Honestly, Clem is getting pretty tired of being stuck in freakishly foggy places. 

The air is heavy and wet with it, every breath pulling in lungfuls of damp swampy air. It wraps around them; as if having to run wasn’t terrible enough by itself. Seriously.

The Hunter Exams just had to add in the element of disorientation in the form of endless gray fog, didn’t it? The fog here is thicker than the one the fog-lizards had conjured in the preliminaries. Numere Wetlands is the home of one of the highest fog-lizard population in the Kukan’yu Kingdom after all, and the creatures here use that fact to their advantage. Now more people are dying than would have originally and it’s getting to be kinda distracting. 

Maybe it’s messed up for Clem to think of the death of people as  _ distracting,  _ but it’s not like she knows the people dying personally or anything. Clem can feel it whenever another of the examinees dies and the sudden disappearance of auras all around her makes it hard to focus on that of Satotz and her friends. Her only priority is making sure that she and her friends make it past this phase alive. 

She doesn’t have the time to worry or feel bad about random strangers. 

Clem has heard of the brutal creatures that inhabit the infamous Swindler’s Swamp and has no interest in coming across any of them. She keeps her senses open and her eyes on the ground beneath her, lest she walk into something that will try to eat her.

Screams pierce through the sound of their pounding footsteps, resounding through the fog-filled marsh and echoing. The ground is muddy, wet  _ slurps _ coming from where they have to pull their feet away from the clinging earth. 

Besides her, Hanzo isn’t very concerned about the wildlife doing its best to hunt them down. Kurapika and Leorio hang a little behind, while Gon and Killua run ahead of the rest of them. 

Clem nudges Hanzo with an elbow and whispers, loud enough for Hanzo to hear her but low enough that it can’t be heard over the stomping of the examinee’s feet around them. “Can you do me a favor in case we get separated?” Clementine asks, receiving a vigorous nod from the ninja in return. 

“Can you make sure that Gon and Killua get to the Second Phase safe and sound?”

Hanzo blinks at her request and turns searching eyes in her direction. “Are you worried about their ability to make it that far?” 

“It’s not that,” Clem sighs. “I just have a feeling that Gon is the kind to recklessly jump into danger without thinking about his wellbeing and would rather he doesn’t get himself killed doing something dumb.”

“That sounds like something you’re likely to do as well,” Hanzo comments thoughtfully, voice gaining a teasing edge, “Are you sure you aren’t talking about yourself?”

Clementine pouts. “ _ Yes _ , I’m sure. Anyway, are you willing to do that for me, Hanzo?”

His agreement is good because things quickly go downhill from there and Clem has to focus more on how she’s gonna get out of the shitfest around her than on trying to convince Hanzo to do something for her. 

It starts when Hisoka’s aura gains a bloodthirsty edge to it, the iron usually present in it more prominent and almost drowning out the sweetness; when his bloodlust is enough for both Killua and Hanzo to suggest that they move away from the magician as soon as possible. Gon shouts the warning over to Kurapika and Leorio and in the short time it takes for them to shout a response, they’re swallowed by the encroaching fog. 

Clem bites back a curse at the feeling of their auras going in disoriented circles and meets Hanzo’s eyes. She nods at him, shooting a promise to meet up later, before she turns on her heel and sprints towards the familiar auras, away from the ninja and her best chance at passing through the first phase safely. 

She just hopes that he keeps his promise of keeping the other two safe.

* * *

 

In hindsight, she’s not sure if following after Leorio and Kurapika was very good idea. It kinda sounds like one of the reckless, thoughtless things that Hanzo accused her of being capable of doing earlier. 

By the time Clementine nears where she senses Leorio and Kurapika, their auras are almost entirely drowned out by the pulsing thrum of Hisoka’s bloody gum aura and an animal part of her brain is telling her to turn the hell around. The taste of iron is overwhelming and Clem swears that it’s almost strong enough to smell. 

It seems that the examinees are under attack. Having lost their way from the main herd, they have no idea which direction is the safest way to flee. They’re dropping like flies.

Clem arrives just in time to watch as Kurapika swats cards away and one sink into Leorio’s arm.

Hanzo might be right about what he said earlier because when she skids to a sudden halt beside Kurapika; sends a breathless greeting to a surprised Leorio, and turns her eyes towards the threat- Clementine’s body erupts into goosebumps. 

Hisoka looks all the predator he is. 

His eyes are hungrily roving the examinees around him with an almost sinful expression, vivid yellow irises standing out so clearly amidst the monochrome grey of the marsh around them. The  _ desire _ in his aura, so obviously reflecting in his toxic gaze, to kill those around him reminds Clementine of when she was younger and went on a school trip to the nearby farm. 

A wolf had found its way into a pen of sheep near where they were touring the barn and in the moment before it clamped its jaws around the vulnerable throats of the closest sheep something  _ feral  _ entered its gaze and it howled. 

It tore out the throats of all the sheep in that pen before they realized what was happening.

Clem thinks that the comparison is uncanny and man, this  _ really  _ isn’t looking like such a good idea. She has plans, damn it- and none of them include dying at the hands of a serial killer dressed like a magician. It’s too early on in the exams for her to even be satisfied with going down with a fight. 

Trepidation leeks from the aura of everyone around her, mingling with Hisoka’s bloodlust in a way that causes her heartbeat to erupt into a staccato rhythm. 

Hisoka grins at the examinee closest to him and flickers out of sight, reappearing just as the man’s head falls away from his neck and crimson spurts into the foggy air.

“What the hell are you doing!?” Leorio screams as he makes a half-aborted movement towards the fallen men. 

Hisoka turns his smile at them. “I’m playing judge. The first phase getting really boring so I decided to liven things up a bit.”

Clem doesn’t hear with the examinees say, trying to lock onto Hanzo’s aura so she knows which way to escape to. Clem knows that their best chance of getting out of this unscathed is to flee now when Hisoka’s deadly focus is directed at the examinees stupid enough to think they can take him on and survive. Leorio and Kurapika must know this too but yet the three of them find themselves unable to look away. 

Her eyes don’t leave the jester as he moves in what seems to be a macabre performance; a sick dance with droplets of blood falling to the ground; a mockery of the rose petals thrown at the feet of incredible performers.

There is one thing she will admit. Hisoka is captivating. 

He is twirling flames devouring kindling and blackening all it touches. He is the blinding scar cutting through the sky seconds before thunder has a chance to come to life. 

He is amazing in his destruction.

Not a single twitch of his muscles is wasted as he brutally massacres the examinees around him, dancing around their clumsy attempts of retribution with light steps and a delighted smile on his lips. He is graceful in each of his movements. Fluid. 

And his aura! How it  _ sings  _ as bodies stain the grass underfoot with their blood, as its owner cuts down examinees one by one until there are only four people remaining in the now corpse-strewn clearing. 

_ Only four people,  _ Clem realizes and snaps out of her reverie with fervent desperation.

“Oh  _ fuck _ ,” She hisses and takes a step back as Hisoka’s eyes focus on them once more.

The examinee standing beside them does not move and whispers the bones of the last minute plan with unmoving lips. They’re going to run. Clem murmurs her agreement and feels hyperawareness bubble up at the slow taunting steps Hisoka takes towards them. 

“I’m curious to see whether or not you pass my little exam,” he purrs and his gaze skims across all of them with bright eyes. 

Maybe it’s because the color of Hisoka’s eyes reminds Clementine of those of a viper- though she’s sure Hisoka is much deadlier than a serpent could ever hope to be- that when the signal cuts through the air for them to  _ run _ , she does so without looking back. 

Hisoka laughs from behind them. Then, he starts to count to ten.

_ One. _

_ Two. _

_ Three. _

Their footsteps sound awfully loud in the clearing. Her heart feels like it may come out of her throat. Hisoka’s eyes bore into their backs as they flee. The chant of her heart in ears is loud as it screams  _ coward _ . It’s against her nature to run from a fight.

_ Four. _

_ Five. _

_ Six. _

Her senses are drowned by Hisoka’s aura. And maybe it’s because she’s too focused on the danger in front of her that she misses the shift in Leorio’s aura, how it gains a determined edge that she doesn’t notice until it’s too late to do anything about it.

_ Seven. _

_ Eight.  _

_ Nine. _

_ Ten. _

Leorio stops running.

* * *

 

_ Leorio stops running.  _

“I’m sorry but I can’t run away,” he says, voice steady despite the situation, eyes locked onto the magician’s own. “I can’t resist the urge to beat the shit out of you.”

Clementine’s head snaps to look over her shoulder- her feet slowing down underneath her- at Leorio as he reaches down and picks up a heavy stick. The stick is clutched between his hands in a white-knuckled grip. Leorio’s aura is a turbulent slush of emotion and color, hard to get a read on but it’s not hard to guess what his next action will be. 

She senses the moment the others notice what’s going on.  The other examinee, the one called Cherry the Soldier, keeps on running. He spits the word  _ idiot _ over his shoulder as he flees. At the moment, Clem agrees with the sentiment. How could Leorio think that this was a good idea? 

Kurapika’s aura spasms in horror and her mouth shapes Leorio’s name in a stunned cry. Her aura is a whirlpool of fear; of remembrance; of always arriving too late; of having to bury the bodies of everyone ever loved. Leorio is a damn fool for making Kurapika remember the death of her family by acting like a reckless fool.

Fuck, Clem thinks, none of this was in her plan. 

The question is what she’s going to do about it. She’s not ready to die. She’s most definitely not ready to die. But she’s not ready to stand back and let someone she’s come to like die, either.

_ The time for running away has come and gone _ , her bones whisper, paralyzing her body from moving any farther away, stopping her from continuing her escape.

_ But I want to live, to survive, to achieve my dreams,  _ her mind weeps,  _ I’m not ready to die here. _

_ Then don’t die, _ her heart says, sings, challenges as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world- and maybe it is. She takes in a deep breath and lets her hands go to the blades at her sides. 

“Just looking at your face pisses me off!” Leorio shouts and charges towards Hisoka without further thought. He swings the heavy stick towards Hisoka’s face but hits nothing but displaced air as Hisoka weaves out of the way. 

“I simply adore that look on your face,” the magician purrs from where he has moved, fast enough that it almost looks as if he has teleported. A slow curl of his lips, a brightening of his amber yellow eyes, a burst of iron in his aura and Clementine knows what Hisoka has in mind for Leorio as he draws his arm back, fingers splayed like a claw in the air. 

Then, a knife flies through the clearing, slicing the fingertips of the hand descending like a Damocles sword upon Leorio’s head. Hisoka freezes, body rigid and still as his eyes stare at the red welling up on his hand. The magician’s shock gives Leorio an opening to throw himself away from the dangerous man behind him- and throw himself away he does. 

Clementine’s hand is still raised, still in the air from where the blade left the curl of her fingers. She wonders if what the feeling in her chest is- whether it is fear that is making her blood pound so quickly in her veins.

“Whoever threw that, thanks for your help but he’s mine,” Leorio says as if he’s not fully aware of how quickly he can be killed. “This is my fight,” he adds as if he doesn’t realize that Clem doesn’t want to see his aura-  _ shades of soft blue, the sky after a rainy day, the sea lapping softly at the beige of the shoreline-  _ disappearing into nothingness like so many others today. 

The pounding grows louder and suddenly she’s within arm’s reach of Leorio. 

There is static in her ears as she watches Leorio grip the stick in trembling hands and squares his shoulders to swing at Hisoka once again. She knows that this feeling is. She felt it when Nicolas had tried to blackmail her, when the man on the train attacked her for standing up to him, when she threw the tray of alcohol at men that didn’t know their place. 

This static, this buzzing in her ears- oh yes, she’s well acquainted with this feeling.

_ It’s rage. _

“You’re an idiot,” She spits at Leorio and yanks free another knife from her hip sheath, all the while keeping a wary eye on Hisoka. The magician’s eyes are still locked on the blood dripping from his fingertips and his aura is frighteningly still. Leorio jerks at the sound of her voice and swings the stick at her head instinctively as he whirls around. Clem ducks under the swing with a curse.

“An obnoxious, reckless,  _ suicidal _ idiot.” 

“Oi, what the hell are you doing here!?” Leorio shouts at her. “You were supposed to run!”

“And just leave you here to die?” She snarls, “You say you have it handled but you would have died just now if it hadn’t been for me! This is how you thank me for sticking out my neck for you!?”

Leorio’s face twist in anger. He opens his mouth to reply but it is at that moment that Hisoka stirs, blinking as if waking up from some fading dream and turning his head to look at Clementine with bright eyes. There’s something sharp about the way he examines her- as if picking her apart with his gaze alone.

“Oh?” He says, voice pleasant, so unlike the twisting mass of blood and sweetness and desire in his aura. “That was pretty good.”

Clem blanches at what she feels. If she didn’t have her sensing she wouldn’t know just how much her attack riled him up. Fuck, is he pissed, amused, excited? His aura tastes too much like blood for her to be able to discern his emotions. What he’s feeling right now is mostly bloodlust and not much else. He’s gonna kill her, isn’t he? 

Damn, this  _ was _ a bad idea.

“I didn’t think you’d throw knives at me.” Hisoka smiles and there is a flash of teeth that’s almost too fast for her to see but send chills down her spine all the same. “Don’t you know that those are dangerous?”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to kill people for no reason?” She shoots back. The blade in her left hand is held in a reverse grip. Her right is curled into a fist raised but close to her body. Her heart feels about to pound out of her body.

From the way Leorio jerks to stare at her disbelievingly, she must sound more at ease than she really is. That would be good if the piercing gold of Hisoka’s swirling irises didn’t make her feel dreadfully small and much, much, weaker than she has felt in a long time.

“That’s true,” he tells her, “except I did have a reason.” 

The magician raises bloody fingers to his mouth and licks them clean with half-lidded eyes unblinkingly looking into her own. 

“I wanted to.”

“What the hell kind of reason is that!?” Leorio cuts in, a little too loudly, taking a defensive step in front of her despite the unresolved argument between them. Clem doesn’t even realize she has stopped breathing until Hisoka’s eyes lazily drift away from her and onto Leorio. Clementine takes a breath, loosening the tension in her muscles in the way she’s been taught her entire life.

“It’s the only reason I need,” Hisoka says and there is blood on his lips that Clementine can’t draw her gaze away from- because right now, anything is better than meeting those eyes again.

Leorio’s face hardens. 

“Then that means you can’t complain after I kick your ass.” He growls and Clem has no idea why the fuck he thinks challenging Hisoka is a good plan- but he really needs to stop. “Because I’ll say did it because I wanted to,” Leorio grits out between clenched teeth.

He lunges forward, heavy stick held aloft and swings it down onto Hisoka’s head. The magician barely moves; tilting his body slightly and letting the blow miss him by mere centimeters. Clementine throws herself forward as well, grabbing ahold of Leorio’s arm with her empty hand and yanking him away from Hisoka’s clenched fist. 

She uses the momentum to get herself closer to the magician. Her left-hand angles the knife in its hold in order to slash at Hisoka’s throat. Yellow eyes widen minutely and for a moment, Clem feels as if her attack will land. Then, her knife slices through the empty air and she feels her stomach drop. 

She didn’t even see him move. 

Leorio’s shouts a warning from behind her and Clem whirls around. 

She turns just in time to see as Hisoka’s fist makes contact with Leorio’s chin. The blow is powerful. It’s enough to send him hurtling through the air and to make his body twist in the air. 

She hears Leorio’s body hit the ground with a thud. Leorio’s name tears out of her throat like the cry of an injured animal and Kurapika’s voice, much closer now, echoes the sound. 

Then Kurapika gasps out her name in the same choked breath- and suddenly there’s a hand wrapped around her throat. Clementine can’t breathe. 

“Your friends bad influences,” Hisoka says thoughtfully, toxic eyes boring into Clementine’s glaring brown. “We both know that you’d never try to fight me if it hadn’t been for them.”

Clementine responds with a swipe to his face with the knife in her left hand. He catches her hand with ease and beams as if she has done something he wanted her to. His fingers tighten around her throat briefly and she chokes, digging shortened nails into the exposed skin of his forearm.

If she’s going to die right now then she’ll die  _ fighting _ , damn it.

Hisoka searches her gaze for something that he must find because a moment later his hand loosens its hold on her. He lets go of her and she drops the ground, holding her right hand to her aching throat and defensively clinging to the knife in her left. 

“I don’t want to kill you or your friends right now, Clementine.’ He says as he squats in front of her, a friendly smile on his face. His crimson hair shifts as a breeze runs through the pointed strands. 

“I’ll let you go and let your friends live,” he cheerfully tells her, “They did pass my little exam after all.”

If she couldn’t sense his aura, Clem thinks, then maybe she would believe everything he says. Clem swallows the taste of blood down and tells him, with a raspy voice, meeting his eyes with bravery welling up from part unknown, “You’re lying.”

He blinks and laughs. “How you hurt my feelings! What would I be lying about?”

“When you say that you don’t want to kill any of us right now,” She says, “You’re lying.” Clementine will blame the lack of oxygen for what she says next. “There is only the taste of blood around you right now. That means that you want to kill us but are holding yourself back for some reason.”

Hisoka’s smile grows impossibly wide. His teeth, pearly and sharp, peek out from between his lips, the bottom of which is still smeared with blood. 

“It’s only been a few days and you have yet to disappoint, Clementine.” He purrs as his aura gains a stronger saturation of iron in it, the sweetness only a fading aftertaste.

“I truly hope you grow to become strong.”

There is a soft beeping and Hisoka stands, pulling out a small radio from a hidden pocket. 

_ “Hurry and get back, Hisoka.” _ An unrecognizable voice warbles through the speaker, “ _ We’re almost to the Second Exam site.” _

“Understood,” He replies simply. He walks to Leorio’s unconscious body and lifts it over his shoulder with ease. “I’ll do you a favor and take him with me to the next site. I trust you know how to find your way there as well?”

She nods. “Yeah.”

And when Hisoka disappears into the fog, Leorio over his shoulder; Kurapika is there to offer her a helping hand when she slowly climbs to her feet. Kurapika gathers the knife from earlier and Clem doesn’t bother cleaning them before shoving them into their sheaths. 

When the world stops feeling like it’s trembling under her feet and Hisoka has gone far enough for her to still track without the risk of running across him again- Clementine counts to ten. Slowly. Easing the hysteria inside her at having mentioned something about her ability to Hisoka. 

Then, with few words passing between them, Clementine and Kurapika run. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to tell me what you think about the story so far!
> 
> Also, I have fanart! Check it out in the link below. 
> 
> https://ap3x-phantom.deviantart.com/art/So-Many-Questions-708239107 
> 
> Thank you for reading about Clementine. Don't be afraid to tell me what you think so far. C:


	9. Second Phase Interlude: Leorio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author gives Clementine's point of view a short break; Leorio is a pretty simple guy; and the Second Phase begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my shortest chapter as well as my latest. Yes there's a correlation between the two. cx
> 
> I did warn in the last chapter that this one would be on the short side so I don't feel too bad lol. Also, the chapter length will go back to its normal length next update. I'll do my best to be on time!
> 
> No Hanzo in this chapter, sadly, but he will be in the next one. Trust me. cx

Leorio wakes up with a groan. His back is pressed against the hard bark of a tree and the wetness of the damp grass beneath him seeps into the seat of his pants. His mouth tastes like blood and if he didn’t know better, he would have thought his jaw was dislocated. His head pounds, his vision blurs, and his pants are wet. He has no clue what the hell is going on right now.

“Leorio!” Gon shouts as he pops into existence besides Leorio’s seat on the ground. There is concern and relief warring in his bright eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay. ”

The punk ass kid from earlier- Killua or something- stands beside Gon and looks unimpressed by Leorio’s bewilderment.“Where are we?”

“We’re at the site for the Second Phase of the exam, somewhere called Visca Forest.” A sly glint sparks in Killua’s eyes. “Are you done taking a nap, old man?”

Leorio feels a vein throb on his forehead.

The fucking _balls_ on this kid.

“Ne, Leorio,” Gon interrupts before Leorio can put the kid in his place. There’s a serious expression on the boy’s face, oddly intense. “Where’s Kurapika and Clem?”

“What do you mean?” Leorio asks, anger quickly giving away to concern. “We were all together earlier when-” his words trail off.

The last thing he can remember is- _the sound of his voice calling out a warning, a back turning to face him much too quickly but far too slow, grey eyes wide and horrified_ \- a fist moving towards him and knowing that there was no way he could move out of the way fast enough.

The pain that had burst through his senses had been one of the most agonizing experiences of his life. It was only through sheer stubbornness that he clung to consciousness long enough to feel himself fly through the air and hear Kurapika’s cry out his name.

“Gon,” He asks urgently, as he scans the crowd for the two familiar faces. He gets to his feet, using the tree as support when his head spins. “Are you _sure_ that they’re not here? How else did I get here?”

“Hisoka carried you,” Gon tells him as if that’s supposed to bring him comfort rather than the bolt of unease that runs down his spine. “I was really worried when I saw Hisoka carry you here by yourself! You were unconscious and Kurapika and Clem weren’t with you guys.”

Dread settles heavily in Leorio’s gut.

The three of them had been lucky to avoid being outright killed by Hisoka. The ease in which he had murdered all those examinees sits uncomfortably in Leorio’s chest. He has never seen so many people die at once, especially not in such a ruthless and savage way. There is no doubt in Leorio’s mind that Hisoka is a monster- a dangerously unhinged one.

What kind of psycho makes a game out of killing people just because they’re _bored_?

Leorio doesn’t regret standing up to Hisoka. He only regrets not having the strength to kick the bastard’s ass for being such a creepy son of a bitch. That and the fact that Clementine, someone that’s still a complete stranger to him, saw that he was so badly outclassed that she felt the need to personally intervene.

He’ll admit he needed all the help he could get just to keep up with the clown and even then the bastard was toying with them both- if the ease in which he knocked Leorio unconscious is any clue. Also, there’s the fact that the way Clem tried to help only made things worse.

What kind of idiot _sasses_ the killer clown that just murdered like thirty people in front of them? He will confess, he didn’t expect Hisoka’s reaction to Clem cutting him to be so _weird_ ; but if sarcasm is Clementine’s natural reaction to fear and danger, it’s a miracle she’s lived for so long.

The thought makes his stomach turn. Leorio has no clue whether she and Kurapika are alive or not- and the last image he has of either of them doesn’t do much to reassure him.

_“I did have a reason,” Hisoka says before he brings his bloodied fingers to his lips. He licks away the blood as if savoring the taste of it on his tongue. “I wanted to.”_

_His eyes pin Clementine to the spot and despite the argument, they’re still in the middle of, Leorio can’t help but be concerned when he sees the trembling in her limbs and the ashen pallor of her face._

_Leorio doesn’t hesitate to step in front of her when he notices her breath has caught in her throat. This was his fight, to begin with. If Hisoka should be terrorizing anyone it should be the one that chose to stop running and fight him, not a girl that despite being skilled- as Leorio sees firsthand later on- looks like there’s a viper wrapped around her throat and pressing its venomous fangs to her skin._

_The fight, when it happens, moves quickly._

_He knows this because Kurapika doesn’t have the chance to jump into the brawl before it ends. It feels like the fight happens between breaths, that if he closes his eyes for a second too long he will miss it all._

_A blink and Clementine has slashed a knife at Hisoka’s neck._

_A blink and Hisoka has vanished from in front of her only to reappear directly behind her._

_A blink and it’s the most he can do to choke out a warning before the fist collides with his chin._

_In those brief milliseconds- the ones before Hisoka’s punch connects- Leorio sees Clem spin around quickly, but not fast enough to defend herself had Hisoka’s attack been directed at her._

_The punch lands. He flies._

_The last thing he sees as he hurtles through the air is Kurapika’s stricken face, spinning, spinning, mouth curling around the syllables of his name before it all falls dark._

“We were together before I was knocked out.” Leorio says, “I don’t know what happened after that.” Something occurs to him. “Did you say that _Hisoka_ was the one to bring me here?”

Gon nods. Leorio feels sick.

A breeze flutters through the air and Gon’s head snaps to the side. He stares intently into the shadow of the trees surrounding the clearing they’re in and sniffs the air curiously.

Then, with no warning and voices raised in argument, Kurapika and Clementine burst out of the marsh with a swarm of birds at their heels.

* * *

 

Leorio can’t help but stare at the duo in bewilderment. Just a moment ago he had been positive that his actions had caused the death of the very same people in front of him but from what he can see, they’re both alive and kicking. He’s not sure if he hit his head harder than he thought or if he’s really seeing Kurapika bicker with Clementine as they cut down the flock of birds surrounding them.

“I thought I told you to leave it behind!” Kurapika shouts as he avoids the swooping attack of one of the enraged vultures and strikes out at it with one of his bokken. It drops and another bird quickly takes its place. Clementine huffs and cradles the bundle in her left arm closer to her chest.

“How about we deal with these stupid birds and _then_ you can yell at me?” She shoots back and ducks under the sharp talons swiping at her head. She slashes at the birds closest to her and throws her head back to avoid the sharpened beak of one of the vultures aiming at her eyes.

The examinees gathered outside the hanger watch as newcomers fight off the horde of pissed off vultures. The clock placed atop the massive doors ticks closer to twelve. Satotz stares at the duo as well, eyes sparkling with amusement and mustache twitching as the bundle held in Clementine’s grip seems to shift on its own.

Killua laughs from his place beside Gon. “See, I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

Gon pouts. “Ne, Killua that’s not what you told me! You told me that they were probably dead and being eaten by the wildlife.”

“It was supposed to reassure you,” Killua says with a shrug, “Either way there’d be nothing to worry about. Worrying about the dead is stupid.”

Leorio twitches- what a messed up kid. How is that supposed to be reassuring?

The last of the birds drop to the ground and Gon bounds towards Kurapika and Clem excitedly, towing Killua and Leorio along with him. Leorio stumbles across the uneven ground and mutters complaints under his breath. A little warning would be nice before he’s dragged around.

Clementine is wiping off the blood on her blade when they arrive, with a rag that Leorio didn’t even notice her pulling out. Kurapika, on the other hand, has already put his bokken away and has turned to face them with a relieved and warm smile. “I’m glad you all made it here safely.”

“I’m glad you guys are okay too!” Gon declares and beams, face showing none of the worries that had been there only moments before. “What took you so long?”

“We had… an altercation with Hisoka.” Kurapika explains after a shared glance at both Leorio and Clementine. “We got separated from the main group but found our way back after Hisoka left with Leorio.” Gon easily accepts the explanation while Killua looks more skeptical.

“Whatever.” The white-haired boy nudges one of the dead birds with the toe of his shoe. “What’s up with these things though? What’d you do to piss so many birds off?”

The small bundle of fabric held in the crook of Clementine’s left arm lets out a small mewl and Leorio has a feeling he already knows where this is going. The girl gives them a sheepish grin.

“I kinda stole the bird’s future meal before they could eat it?”

“What she means to say,” Kurapika interjects irately, “is that she decided to make the dangerous wetlands much more dangerous by causing one of many creatures inhabiting it to do its best to hunt us down.” Kurapika’s eye seems to twitch and Clementine curls around the bundled animal defensively.

“I already said I was sorry,” she mutters, face glum and guilty all at once,“I didn’t know that the freaking birds wouldn’t leave us alone. Plus, I couldn’t just leave him to die.”

Leorio opens his mouth to ask- _Him?_ \- but then Clementine is saved from his interrogation by the screeching of the hanger doors opening.

Everyone’s attention snaps to the figures visible inside.

A blue-haired woman reclines on a comfortable looking chair, a man looming from behind her. She looks at ease, a cocky grin on her face. “The theme of the Second Exams is simple,” She begins and the creature in Clementine’s arms is forgotten as they all lean forward in anticipation. “You are to cook for us.”

Leorio blinks in confusion. “Cooking!?” He shares a bewildered look with Kurapika and Gon. He has no idea how to cook at all, damn it- he’s trying to become a doctor, not a chef!

“My name is Menchi,” The woman says, “And this is Buhara. We’re the Gourmet Hunters that you’ll have to satisfy as part of your exam.”

Leorio hears a half-choking sound from beside him and sees Clementine staring at the duo with wide eyes. She looks _starstruck._ She’s muttering things under her breath.

“What are you-” He’s hit by disbelief. “Are you listing off _recipes_!?”

Clementine nods jerkily and turns to him with panicked eyes.

“Will anything I make be worthy enough for them to eat?” She cries out with her voice lost among the examinees that contemplate the challenge out loud. She’s looking at Gon, Killua, Leorio, and Kurapika as if they can give her the answer she seeks. She looks like she wants to scream. “I don’t even know what they want to eat.”

A pause. They all stare at her in bewilderment.

Then:

“I want to eat roast pork!” Buhara says. ”I don’t even care what kind of pork it is, as long as it’s from these woods.”

Clementine’s gaze sharpens. The panic melts away.

A part of him wants to ask her what the hell is up with her reaction; more importantly- _if she can give him some tips on how to cook._ She’s back to looking like she did when she attacked Tonpa back in the exam waiting room, though. Leorio is starting to think it’s her ‘I’m-feeling-mentally-unhinged’ look.

He doesn’t really want to see if he’s right.

It turns out, he doesn’t have the chance to ask her anything at all, whatever his decision would have been in that regard. That’s because the moment the words, “LET THE SECOND ROUND BEGIN!” ring through the air, Clementine is the first to move- sprinting into Briska woods with arms curled around the mysterious animal from earlier and mouth wordlessly reciting recipes.  

Leorio sighs and really hopes that he can bullshit a recipe that will taste half decent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the love you've been giving this story. I don't know I can put into words how touched I am that so many of you like Clementine, despite her bad decisions and shitty attitude. I hope you all stick around to see just where Clem's journey takes her and that you enjoy the story on the way. 
> 
> I appreciate all the comments and kudos! 
> 
> Let me know what you thought about this chapter though! I'm always excited to hear what you guys think.
> 
> Love you all, Morte_Sangriz <3


	10. Clementine and the Second Phase (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author is starting to make a bad habit of updating late; there aren't enough words in this chapter to keep the author happy; and pigs are killed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotta post the little I have written for this chapter now, or it won't get posted. I'm struggling a bit with this fic and how I want to phrase certain parts of this story. I do adore this story though and just need to get my act together in regards to the update schedule and just what I want to write for the future chapters.  
> Either way, I hope you enjoy this super short chapter! C:  
> Let me know what you think about it and thank you all for sticking around!

If Clementine is going to be completely honest- death by pig is a pretty lame way to die.

Not that there is an ideal method of death she approves of for herself, considering that having a favored way to die includes _death_ and Clem would personally rather avoid dying for as long as she can. But if she _were_ to choose a way to die, being killed by a carnivorous boar in the middle of the forest would most definitely not be her number one choice. It lacks the finesse and excitement of dying in battle, or being murdered, or getting hit by a car, or falling from a cliff, or getting _really_ bad food poisoning, or... nearly everything really.

That being said, it is a _very_ good thing that she hadn’t charged in blindly into a direct confrontation with the killer boars. The pigs are freaking _enormous_.

They’re brutal as hell too.

From her place in the trees- she’s sitting on a sturdy branch overlooking a clearing full of the vicious animals- Clementine winces at the wet crunch of a boar trampling another examinee. These Visca Forest pigs are much deadlier than she had originally anticipated.

She should have expected something like this though, considering she’s lived with a Gourmet Hunter her entire life. She’s should know better than to assume that the pork a Gourmet Hunter wants to eat will be easy to gather. Gourmet Hunters have very high standards for the ingredients they use in their cooking and if it just so happens that the best ingredients also happen to be the deadliest?

So be it, they’re willing to risk their lives for a taste.

Clementine can admire the dedication that Gourmet Hunters have because although she has no intention of becoming one herself; that’s not to say that she doesn’t understand that there are just some foods that are worth dying for. There’s no way that she could have gone her entire life as the daughter of a Gourmet Hunter without having an appreciation for _flavor._

She’s been stalking the boars below her since she first stumbled upon the herd but Clem isn’t much closer to finding out how to kill one. She doesn’t think that the pig will stand still long enough for her to close enough to inflict serious damage on it. From what she’s seen, these pigs are _fast_. Fast enough to outpace fully grown men and crush them with their snout before they have a chance to properly react.

Clem is sure that she can kill it if she attacks hard and quick- which just so happens to be the only plan that has popped into her mind so far. So she is pretty much out of options if she can’t come up with some other way of killing a pig that doesn’t include her getting up close and personal with it.

She’s not good at coming up with plans though. The time she has allotted for brainstorming has already ticked by and she’s nowhere near close to an alternative solution.

At least her sensing tells her that there’s not anyone close enough to see and yell at her for the incredibly reckless thing she is about to do. Like shrug off her backpack. Like gently tuck the animal she stole from the claws of vultures into a nook of the tree she’s in, unsheathing her blades, and hoping that she doesn’t end up dying in a lame, pig related death.

Clementine waits for one of the boars to wander close to the tree, to split away from the main team of pigs and then- she _pounces._ She lands on the back of the boar closest to her and the thing _squeals_ like there’s no tomorrow- though if things go as planned, then it won’t be.

She locks her legs around the bulk of the boar’s back the best she can and drives her knives deep into the animal’s skull. Her blades sink into the flesh, tough skin giving way to sharpened daggers after she drives them down as hard as she can. It’s messy, blood splattering her clothing and skin as the boar jerks and bucks with enough force to dislodge her.

Clem lands on the balls of her feet, her legs bent and her body rolling forward to soften the impact of a fully grown boar sending her flying off its back. Seeing it collapse as two of her knives are buried into its skull, blood dripping from its wounds and with a vacant look in its eyes.

She keeps her senses open and tracks the other boars in the clearing- thankful that they’re less focused on teaming up to kill her and more on getting their young out of her immediate vicinity. At least _some_ of the freaky animals in this God-forsaken forest act like they’re supposed to.

Clementine is just ecstatic that she has her pork.

Now all she needs it to do is to do a quick field dressing and it will be ready for cooking.

She trudges to the corpse with a giddy smile.

She’s going to be cooking for Buhara and- more importantly- Menchi. _The_ Menchi. The World’s _Finest_ Gourmet Hunter. _That_ Menchi. Clem is still deliberating whether it’d be appropriate for her to ask for an autograph or not.

She’s less than five feet away from the dead boar when something in her senses _lights up_ and quickly eats at the space between them with a warbled squeal. It’s one of the other boars of the group that has split off to attack her. The enraged boar shoots toward her with an agility she does not expect from a creature of its size.

She hurls herself out of the way, feeling a gust of wind from where the boar narrowly misses crushing her. The boar hurtles past her and the speed in which it moves is _incredible._ She scarcely has time to get back on her feet before the boar is charging again.

Clem darts behind a nearby tree, not the one where she has hidden the animal she rescued earlier, and yanks out the blades sheathed in her boots. She holds them with the handle grasped tight between her fingers, the blades facing downward in a reverse grip.

Her senses blare out a warning and Clementine twists around the trunk of the tree as the boar charges once again. The bark splinters under the attack but does not shatter. Clem uses the small distraction to slash at the creature’s neck, blood spurting from the new wounds the same way they did from the first boar.

If Clem can avoid death, then the boar will bleed to death on its own sooner than later.

She’s not sure she has any time to waste though. She’s mildly terrified that she won’t have enough time to make the recipe she plans to appease the Gourmet Hunters with.

Clem shakes the worry out of her head. She _will_ make that recipe for Menchi- and Buhara too, even if he’s not really who she’s trying to impress.

What that means is that she has to hurry up and kill the boar attacking her as soon as possible.

The trick to killing the boar by stabbing it in the face seemed to work just fine; but without the tree branch giving her the height advantage, Clem isn’t sure how to kill this new boar without making a mess.

The boar is stubborn. Its aura loses its vibrancy, the blurred edges of _animal_ growing faint as time ticks by but still, the boar refuses to die without a fight. It charges at her with the fatal wounds it carries slowing it down. Making it easier to avoid but not any less dangerous, as Clem soon finds out.

Even at death’s door, the boar is freaking _fast._

She’s ready to fling herself out of the way and let it ram into one of the trees behind her but then- as her knees bend and her world narrows down to the space between her and the rapidly approaching pig- she hears a small mewl, almost unnoticeable besides the thundering footsteps of the boar.

Her blood freezes. Her sensing confirms what she fears.

She takes a moment to think about all the bad decisions she has a tendency to make when unsupervised and sends a mental apology Hanzo’s way- because Clementine knows that she’s about to do something completely reckless and idiotic.

She curls her hands tighter around her knives and sees the boar charge, closer and closer.

Clem braces herself.

This is _really_ going to hurt.

* * *

 

Hanzo’s head snaps up from the dead pig in front of him.

His Clementine-is-being-reckless-radar is beeping.

Insistently.

He would like to think that Clementine hasn’t gotten herself into more trouble less than two hours after she narrowly made it to the Second Phase. He’s aware of how capable she is in defending herself, not that she’d be a challenge for him to defeat, but Hanzo hasn’t spent close to a week with her without noticing just how reckless she can be.

Speaking of which, he hasn’t seen a hint of the girl since she ran off in the beginning of the Second Phase, actually. Ideally, that wouldn’t be enough time for Clementine to get into trouble.

Realistically, it’s more than enough.

And _that’s_ why he’s worried.

It’s hard to trust that Clementine will be careful when in the few days they traveled together, Hanzo has already developed a gut instinct for every time she _isn’t_.

Although, maybe not _every_ time.

Like as they ran through the Numere Wetlands and she chose to split away from him to help Leorio and Kurapika. His newfound radar hadn’t beeped then- but some of Clementine’s questionable decisions are so obvious that if he truly needed the Clementine-is-being-reckless-radar to notice; he’d be a terrible _shinobi_.

They’re all in one piece after facing down the boars, which thanks to Gon’s quick discovery of their weakness, didn’t take as long as the _shinobi_ had been expecting. Now, the clearing is full of dead boars and examinees that don’t have a single clue as to how to make roast pork, Hanzo among them.

“How are you supposed to cook pork?” Leorio asks in a loud whisper. “Do you just put it over a fire until it’s cooked? How do you even know it’s done cooking?”

“Unfortunately, the art of _Ninjutsu_ doesn’t extend to the art of cooking.” Hanzo chimes in, dragging his boar over to where the others are gathered. “But I’m sure we can make something that is both edible and appealing to the palate.” His words seem to calm Leorio down.

Kurapika makes a thoughtful sound. “Hanzo is correct. Panicking will do nothing to resolve the situation at hand. We should spend the time we have doing our best to cook to the best of our abilities.”

“But Kurapika!” Gon exclaims, “Aunt Mito never taught me how to cook.”

“I’ve never been inside a kitchen in my life,” Killua adds with shrug, “The only thing I know how to cook are poisons to kill people with.”

Hanzo smiles reassuringly. “I’m sure that with enough determination we can manage something that won’t kill the examiners.”

Gon crosses his arms and looks away from the ninja, a pout on his face. Hanzo is sure he’s still upset at him for carrying him out of the Numere Wetlands instead of letting him follow Clementine into danger. Hanzo did make a promise though, so he can’t find it in himself to feel bad about how the boy reacts to him fulfilling it.

“If we’re going to prepare a meal we should head back to the cooking stations,” Kurapika says.

Hanzo agrees with a smile.

Inside he’s sweating.

He has a feeling that Clementine is the only one among them that has the slightest idea of how to prepare a meal without potentially poisoning anyone who consumes it. Or at least that’s the impression he got from watching her swoon over the woman, Menchi, and take off into the forest while rattling off ingredients.

The only thing he knows how to cook is rice.

The sense of taste can’t be _that_ hard to fool, can it?

* * *

 

The first thing that crosses her mind after the boar slams into her with the force of a freight train and she is hurled back- is that she’s glad that no one is around to see what a disaster this turned out to be. If Clem wasn’t as sturdy as she is- or if she hadn’t known enough about _Nen_ to coat herself in _Ten_ right before the boar stuck her- then her bones would have snapped under the pressure she is hit with.

Even with her aura focused into _Ten_ and curled around the delicate tissues of her organs and bones; when the bark of the tree behind her splinters under her back and the wood shards explode into her skin- it _burns_ through the haze of adrenaline pumping through Clem’s veins.

Clementine groans. It’s going to be impossible for her to pick out every splinter out of her back on her own and until they’re all out then this pain isn’t going to get any better. For now, she has to push through the pain and focus on the matter at hand; which is the dead pig in front of her and the fact that her arms are halfway in a dead pig’s mouth.

It’s the result of a last-minute gamble- of a sudden change of plan born from the boar opening its mouth as it charged towards her. An opportunity that had blossomed at that moment, an opportunity that Clementine had seized in the space between one heartbeat and the next; in the tightening of her fingers around the handles of her blades and the thrusting of her knives upward just as the boar collides against her. The pig died the moment her blades cut through the roof of its mouth and buried themselves in its brain. More blood splattered over her and the stench of iron now clings to her clothing in a way she knows will be impossible to wash off.

Clementine feels absolutely disgusting. She is completely soaked in blood. She’s in pain and still has to cook for the Gourmet Hunters waiting for her.

Clem wishes she was capable of making good decisions- because a lot of these reckless ones end up with her gasping in pain after she survives the bullshit she finds herself in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think about it and thank you all for sticking around!


	11. Clementine and the Second Phase (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clementine feels strongly about food, almost faints when in the presence of her celebrity idol, and succumbs to peer pressure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, I've been super bad at keeping up with my schedule. In my defense, this chapter just didn't want to be written. I rewrote it a total of three times before I came up with what you'll read below. It's a little crackier than the last ones but hey, Clementine is kind of a silly character. 
> 
> I'd like to thank everyone that's keeping up with this story! Thank you for reading about Clementine.   
> I hope you enjoy the chapter!

“I’m so close to cooking you as a side dish,” Clementine tells the animal that’s bundled up in her spare shirt. She stumbles over a rock and curses under breath. Her head has been throbbing ever since she pried herself off that tree. Jerky movements only make the fogginess and pain worse.

“ I can’t believe I got smashed into a  _ freaking  _ tree for you.” She mutters as she does her best to drag the dead boars behind her without aggravating the wounds on her back. She bites back a pained hiss when the boar catches on a tree root and she has to yank it by the leg to get it moving again. 

Clem isn’t a wimp or anything- she’s just not crazy enough to particularly  _ enjoy _ being in pain. Especially when that pain stems from splinters digging into her flesh and it kinda feels like she’s been drugged. She knows she braced her skull and brain with her Nen before crashing into the tree, it the only reason she avoided broken bones and internal bleeding. So at least she knows she doesn’t have a skull fracture or actual brain damage. 

Besides, a concussion is the only thing that fits this bleary and heavy feeling in her body isn’t it? 

Clem honestly does not know. 

She’s not a doctor. 

The animal in her backpack, which she moved to her front, blinks a slitted eye at her. 

“You’re not even that cute.” She tells it spitefully.

Of course, she’s absolutely lying. The tiny hybrid is the cutest little shit Clem has seen. She’s sure it knows it too- since it calls her bluff and lets out an adorable chirp; a sound which, if her brain didn’t feel so murky, would probably have her spinning in place and singing its praise to the heavens.

Her sensing stirs as auras come into its range.  _ Human  _ auras. 

Clem trudges into the cooking area with a scowl on her face and drenched in blood. The headless and gutted boar behind her drags across the ground as she makes her way to an empty cooking station. She’s had the displeasure of discovering, first-hand, that her ability is finicky and doesn’t like to light up as brightly for animals that are charging straight at her than it does for people that are standing around and doing nothing.

Her back burns at the reminder. 

She senses Hanzo and the others, changing her course in that direction. She’s really not in the mood for the questions she knows they’ll ask, but she’s just spent the past however-long-it’s-been wandering the forest with a weird kind of baby bird and a pig corpses as her only companions. 

Maybe a little company will do her good.

The examinees she’s passed stare after her with wariness and something that feels like fear, though muddled enough that it’s only after her aura has spread out around her- and against that of the people near her- that she can put a name to it. She’s guessing that the blurriness, the lack of distinction between one aura and the other, comes from the fact that these examines have auras so weak that if she wants to decipher each individual one then she has to put some effort into it.

That, or it could just be the mild concussion she might have.

Either way, she pretends she doesn’t hear the whispers that follow her every step-

_ “Isn’t that the girl from earlier? She’s covered in blood!” _

_ “She’s insane. I knew there was something off about her.” _

-until she hears a voice as smooth as a blade before it cuts open someone’s throat, tangled with an aura she’s been getting far too many chances to familiarize herself with.

“That color suits you.” 

His voice isn’t the loudest; a low timber that she could have easily missed amidst the clamor of other sounds surging around her. But, the moment her tongue tastes bubble-gum every nerve in her body becomes attuned to his presence. 

_ Good instincts _ , a part of her purrs in satisfaction,  _ predators aren’t meant to be ignored _ . 

“I’m glad you think so,” She retorts, pretending that her heart isn’t thudding against her ribs and that she’s more at ease than she really is. “I was worried you wouldn’t approve.”

Hisoka chuckles and his citrine eyes curve upward in mirth as if his aura hadn’t stirred awake at the sight of her drenched in blood and they hadn’t tried to kill each other a few a hours before. 

“It’s an enticing color,” He murmurs and his aura flashes with bloodlust for a brief second. 

She opens her mouth to add something like ‘Are you sure it matches my eyes?’ before the smell of charred meat rises to her nose and she’s thoroughly distracted. Clementine looks past Hisoka, to the cooking stations around them and something inside her heart breaks.

On spits all over the cooking stations are the entire- uncleaned, unskinned, uncut- bodies of boars over flames too high. She tightens her fingers around the leg of her own boar defensively, as if someone will tear it from her grasp and throw into a fire just so they can watch it burn. 

“Hisoka, what’s going on here?” She whispers as coils of black smoke rise from the cooking stations. The meat doesn’t even resemble meat anymore. She’s not sure it can even be  _ called _ meat at this point. “Why is everything burning?”

The magician’s aura is amused. “It would seem that some people took the term ‘roast pork’ literally.” His eyes turn to his own cooking station- where his own pork is turning a golden color. “What a waste don’t you think?” He adds with a nonchalant hum that is reflected oddly in his aura.

Emotion swells in her chest and threatens to burst. 

“You’re all sick.” Clem manages to choke out as someone’s boar bursts into actual flames. “What the hell is wrong with you people!? Are you actual idiots?” Her voice grows louder the more she speaks.

From a distance, she feels Hanzo’s aura perk up at the sound of her voice. Then she feels him move towards her when he hears that she’s actually yelling at people and not just making conversation.

“YOU’RE TOO STUPID FOR THE OXYGEN YOU BREATHE,” She shouts, eyes flashing with fury and fingers itching to start throwing knives. She meets the glares of the examinees around her with a burning stare and lips curled into not quite a snarl. “I SHOULD SET YOU ALL ON FIRE.”

“YOU ALL SICKEN ME.” She says to the examinees near her and adds after a second of consideration, “Not you Hisoka. Your pork doesn’t look so bad.”

“I’m touched to have your approval,” The magician looks amused when he replies, so Clem considers it a win. She clears her throat to continue. 

“BUT THE REST OF YOU ARE VILE!”

Hanzo’s aura twitches with every insult and threat that comes out of her mouth. He’s close enough that Clem can see his eyes widen at the blood on her clothes. The sight stalls him for a moment-

“YOU HEATHENS! YOU FUCKING ANIMALS!” 

-before he jerks into motion and is beside her in the blink of an eye. His hand is over Clem’s mouth immediately, muffling her curses.

Clem shoves away Hanzo’s hand, gulping in an enormous breath of air before shouting, “I WILL NOT BE SILENCED!!”

Hanzo slams his palm back into place over her mouth without batting an eye at her outburst.

“She’d love to stay and chat,” Hanzo says cheerfully to the enraged examinees around him. Clementine squirms in his grip. It’s clear she’d love to do more than chat if she has the chance- like show people to what her fists taste like. “But she really should get started on her cooking now, so I fear she doesn’t have the time.”

He drags her away without another word, throwing a bright, “Nice seeing you, Hisoka!” over his shoulder before quickly fleeing from the scene; Clementine fighting him the entire way.

* * *

 

She puts her hands on her hips and eyes the pork on the spit. The meat is turning a nice golden brown and the seasonings atop of it give the cooking pork a savory scent. 

Clem nods to herself. Things are going well so far. 

Besides her, Hanzo clears his throat. “Clem, I know you’re upset. But don’t you think making me watch over this strange creature is an…  _ odd _ way for me make it up to you?”

“Hanzo,” Clementine chirps brightly, “If you take a step closer to that stove, I will go out of my way to break as many of the  _ shinobi _ teachings in front of you as I can.”

The ninja’s aura recoils in horror but Clementine doesn’t feel bad for him. It’s not like she’s actually  _ done _ anything to him. Well, anything  _ besides  _ shove her backpack, full of tiny animal, into his arms and do her best to salvage his boar after the ninja’s horrifying attempt at cooking it.

The look Kurapika shoots her from her own kitchenette is full of wry amusement though concern curls the corners of the blonde’s mouth downward. Kurapika already yelled at her for being recklessly stupid. Clementine appreciates her concern even if the lecture wasn’t really needed. She doesn’t plan on a repeat performance of the tree stunt.

Gon is intently staring at the boar Clem dressed for him over the fire. It’s only the promise that she’ll be more careful in the future if he makes sure the pork doesn’t burn that has his attention so riveted on the pig. The fact that Killua is poking him in the ribs every time he loses focus helps things along.

In regards to Killua, the white-haired boy had glanced at her, narrowed his eyes, and huffed, “I killed my pig without a single drop of blood on me. You’re so messy.” To which Clem, being the mature adult she is, pulled down the skin of her eye and blew him a raspberry.

Leorio, on the other hand, is distressed enough that Clem sees it painted across his face clearly. He’s been scowling at her since Hanzo dragged her over to their corner of the cooking area and has twitched every time that she is in clear pain. Clem isn’t sure if it’s because she’s drenched in blood or if he developed a nervous twitch in the time she’s been gone but she wishes he would stop being weird already. 

“That’s  _ it _ !” Leorio shouts, throwing down his briefcase on the counter and rooting through it. He stomps over to her with hands full of medical supplies and face twisted in a mixture of embarrassment and disbelief. “If I let you walk around with that injury it’ll just get infected and you’ll be extra annoying to deal with.” He sets the supplies on the counter next to her, “Sit down and tell me where you’re injured.”

“Eh, what?” Clem replies intelligently and blinks as the words process. She sits down. “Well, there’s my back. ”

Leorio’s face twitches and he takes a breath to compose himself. “Yes, you moron, that much is clear. What I want to know is if there are any  _ other _ places that are injured.”

Clementine thinks about the question for a second before patting herself down. “I don’t think anything is broken but I hit my head pretty hard earlier. There’s also my hands but those were hurt before the exams.” She brushes fingers across her throat gently. “There might be some bruising on my neck but not anything serious since I can still talk just fine.”

“That’s not how you check if there’s damage,” Leorio mutters and grabs a pair of scissors. “I’m going to have to cut your shirt so I really hope you have a spare shirt. 

Clem hums noncommittally, “There should be one in my bag.”

She keeps an eye on her slowly cooking pork and on Leorio’s as well, since he’s doing her the favor of fixing up her injuries. He moves to face her back and Clem has to restrain the urge to flinch when she feels him start to cut away at her tank-top. She’s been too distracted to notice the pain earlier but wow, her back hurts a hell of a lot.

“By the way, I got thrown into a tree. So there might be splinters.” She adds after a second of deliberation and jumps at the feeling of his breath washing over her back as he sighs. 

“A goddamn tree,” he curses and gets to work. “Why am I not surprised?”

Clementine is really glad that she lowered the heat for the cooking pork because picking out all the splinters from her back takes longer than she expected it to. Then again, she’s not the one with a good view so she’d probably miss a few if she had done it herself. It still hurts though and she hears Leorio mutter something about having to really make sure that she doesn’t get an infection; and that she got lucky that all of the blood of the boar is on her front and not her open wounds.

The boar is about done when he wipes down her back with a strong smelling disinfectant that makes Gon sneeze from a few stations away and tapes down gauze to her back. Leorio stands up and stretches before dropping to kneel in front of her.

“Let me see your hands now,” He tells her, almost kindly, as if this moment between them of doctor and patient is enough to wipe away his previous anger at her staying behind to face Hisoka with him. 

Clem knows that it did for her. 

“Nope,” Clementine carefully gets to her feet. “I’m not giving you my hands right now.”

Leorio’s turquoise aura swirls around him in irritation and mild hurt. 

“I don’t want your pork to burn,” she tells him with a smile, “They’re old injuries anyway, so bandaging them after we serve the examiners their food isn’t a problem right?”

His-  _ vibrant azure sky overhead, the indigo of an ocean spread against the horizon-  _ aura settles down and Leorio quints at her suspiciously. “Yeah, whatever,” He mutters and gathers up his medical supplies. 

“But-” He points a finger right between her eyes and Clem nearly goes cross-eyed staring at it. “Don’t think you can avoid it forever!”

“Yeah yeah, okay.” Clementine laughs and turns off the fire under her pork. 

“Everyone, it’s time to turn off the flames.” She says and bounces in excitement. 

“Now comes my favorite part.”

The others follow her lead and put out their fire. But it’s Gon that voices the question she can see on everyone’s faces. 

“Ne, Clem what’s your favorite part?”

Clementine strokes the back of one of the provided kitchen knives gently and grins. 

“Presentation.”

* * *

 

The neatly sliced pork is layered in a line straight across the plate and seasoned with some of the spices she always keeps handy. She carefully arranges some of the greens that Kurapika had been kind enough to share with her and drizzles a little bit of sauce made from fruits she found on the trek to the cooking station earlier. 

“Fail,” Menchi tells another of the examinees that set their pork in front of the Gourmet Hunter. The woman looks bored as she sits on her fluffy chair. Her chin is in her hand and she’s glaring at the long line of examinees waiting to present their cooking to her. 

“Fail.” The Gourmet Hunter tells Hisoka fearlessly, “There is nothing that makes this dish stand out, no spices, or seasoning.”

Hanzo is almost up next and after him, Gon and Killua. 

While she had wanted to help them with the entire cooking and preparation portion of this phase, everyone had turned down her offer and done their best on their own. Of course she made sure that their meat wasn’t over or undercooked but besides making sure they knew they could use the spices she has with her Clem didn’t do much to help with their dishes. Therefore, she’s worried about how they’ll do. 

Kurapika seems to understand how important presentation is but Clementine can’t remember seeing her season her pork at all. Clem will admit that her dish looks nice though.

“Fail.” Menchi drones again and when its Hanzo’s voice Clem hears asking why she feels her heart sink to her stomach. “It was incredibly salty. What did you do? Dump the entire salt shaker on it?”

Oh dear god. Salt. Is that was Hanzo was pouring onto his pork earlier?

“Fail,” Menchi tells Gon. “Did you seriously just cover the entire thing with pepper?”

Christ. Is that why there was hardly any pepper when she needed some?

“Fail,” Menchi says to Killua with an irritated twitch of her eye. “Shoving chocolate bars into the meat ruins the natural flavor of the pork.”

Killua did what now? 

Leorio steps up to the plate with a confident swagger and a little Hunter Association flag placed on his pork. Menchi looks like she’s on the verge of flipping over the entire table, which Clem would fully understand if she did, and seems to give Leorio the benefit of the doubt. She tastes the pork and promptly spits it out, giving into her urge to kick away the table. “FAIL. Who in their right mind would put all these spices together? You didn’t even bother to see if they’d clash and ruin the entire dish, did you?” 

Why is she even surprised anymore?

At this point, Clementine is the last person in line, while Kurapika is a bit ahead of her. If there is anyone that Clem can be sure won’t fuck up the simple act of using spices, it’d be the blonde. Kurapika’s pork looks golden and the way she sliced the meat and stuffed fruit and greens in the spaces makes the meal appear delectable. 

Menchi’s face shows just how impressed she is by the presentation of the pork and when she brings some to her mouth, Clementine is praying that it tastes as good as it looks. 

Of course, since the Gods love to shit on Clem and everything she loves- Menchi spits out the food and shoves the plate off the table in rage. “The pork has absolutely no flavor. What the hell did you do to make this so tasteless? FAIL.”

It’s a miracle that Clementine hasn’t started hyperventilating yet and by the frantic beating of her heart, she has a feeling that miracle won’t last very long.  Her hands tremble as the line shrinks. 

And when it’s finally her turn to place her dish in front of Menchi, she robotically places the dish on the table in front of Buhara and Menchi, looks into the Gourmet Hunter’s bright green eyes; and all the carefully prepared speeches she’s come up with while waiting for her turn flee her head in the same way her soul seems to be leaving her body.

There is no space between the words she comes up with, no breath.

“IhopeyoulikewhatImadebecauseifyoudothenIcandiehappy.” Clem spews out with wide eyes and shaking hands. Her aura whips around her in distress, curling around her body like a second skin and leaking into the air. Menchi’s aura feels speculative and it’s reflected in the sharp gleam in her gaze as she looks over the dish placed in front of her and back up at Clementine. 

“Doesn’t look half bad,” She murmurs before leveling a glare at Kurapika. “But looks can be deceiving.” Clem holds her breath as Menchi picks up the fork and sinks it into the pork that Buhara is staring at with drool dripping from his chin. 

The blue haired woman doesn’t immediately spit it out but Clem still feels like she’s standing at the edge of a cliff with one foot off the ledge. 

Suspense sucks, she thinks as Menchi’s aura spikes. 

“Not bad kid,” the Hunter says after the silence has stretched out long enough that Clem would rather be set on fire than stand it for a second longer. “This actually tastes like food.” 

Clem reels back as if the words just finished punching her in the face and presses a hand to her heart. It races under her palm. She can feel the pounding of it in her ears. 

The genius Gourmet Hunter Menchi just told her that her food is edible? 

She must be dreaming. If she is, then she doesn’t want to wake up.

“What do you think?” The Gourmet Hunter passes the plate to Buhara, who shovels most of the pork into his mouth enthusiastically. He makes a sound of agreement. 

“You hear that, kid?” Menchi sticks her fork into another piece of meat. Her emerald gaze scans the impatient examinees watching the events unfolding with eyes growing in realization. Some of them have snarls of rage twisting their faces. Others, watch on with both pride and disappointment. 

Menchi gestures to Clem with the fork and grins. “That means you… PASS!”

Clementine swoons, eyes bright, cheeks flushed and smile wide. 

“Th-thank you,” Clem chokes out. This doesn’t feel real.

Around her, the combined aura of the examinees ripple with shock, and a second later a tension she hadn’t noticed snaps. Voices surge up. Auras fester. 

Chaos descends.

* * *

 

“Isn’t this exciting Clem?” Gon asks her as they’re hanging thousands of feet from the ground. He is freakishly unbothered by the situation they’re in. Unlike Leorio over there, whose ashen parlor is making Clem a little worried that his grip is going to slip and he’ll plummet to his death.

Killua snorts from Gon’s other side. “It’s only fun if we don’t die, Gon.”

She mentally agrees with him, not that she’d voice it aloud since it would make the smartass kid more insufferable. “It gets the blood pumping more than killing a few pigs does, that’s for sure.” 

“The teachings of  _ Ninjutsu _ don’t mention anything about this kind of precarious situation,” Hanzo muses, “But I suppose it does make good training for the arms.”

“That’s a very… positive outlook you have there, Hanzo.” Kurapika says with exasperation in her voice. “Although Clem, I am confused as to why you decided to join us. You passed the earlier exam so there really was no need for you to take part in this challenge.”

Clementine laughs nervously. Saying that she jumped off a cliff so that she could present her celebrity crush with an egg isn’t something that she’s willing to confess. She spits out a lock of hair that is blown into her mouth by a slight gust and clears her throat.

“Peer pressure is a hell of a drug. I didn’t want to be the only one to not jump,” She settles on telling them, “Also don’t you think this is wonderful bonding experience?”

“You’re the weirdest girl I’ve ever met,” Killua tells her dryly. His aura tells Clem he’s amused so she doesn’t take what he says as an insult. It doesn’t stop her from giving him a snide reply.

“I’m pretty sure I’m the only girl you’ve ever talked to.”

Clem cackles as a flush decorates the boy’s face. 

“Th-That’s not true!” Killua sputters and kicks a leg at her. 

She swings out of the way and sticks her tongue out at the white-haired boy. 

“Why are you so flustered then, huh?”

“I’m not flustered, you idiot woman!”

“WILL YOU TWO STOP SHAKING THE WEB!?” Leorio shrieks. 

“It’s almost time to let go,” Gon cuts in with a serious voice belied by the excited spark in his eyes. His voice is almost lost in a surge of wind that floats up from below. 

Around them, people let go of the webs as it starts to unstick from the canyon walls. They fall to their death with a scream.

More people let go while they wait, and wait, and wait- trusting in Gon’s word.

“Now!” Gon shouts.

As one, they let go of the thread. 

Then they fall.


	12. Clementine and the Short Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clementine names her new pet, faces her fears, and talks to her friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there guys! I can't believe it's almost been one year already!   
> I posted the first chapter of To Dream of Spiders, last year ago in March. Time has flown by so quickly.   
> I'm so happy by how many people have given this story kudos, left comments, bookmarked, and subscribed! Looking at what I've accomplished with this story in the span of this year and how my writing style has grown, I'm super excited to continue writing about Clementine and her journey.  
> In honor of this upcoming one year anniversary, feel free to leave comments on what you'd like to see. I might just include it in the next chapter or write a short omake about it.   
> Anyway, I'd like to thank you all for your amazing support. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

The light of the falling sun bleeds into the blue sky. 

It sets the horizon ablaze. 

She watches as the sun sinks lower; as the forest spread like an ocean around the towering landmark that is Mt. Split-in-Half ripples as wind shakes the trees. The view is picturesque in a way she hadn’t expected to see during the Exams but that soothes the nerves that have built up as the phases have passed by. Clem is kinda expecting something to happen the moment she lets her guard down considering the exams are still going on.

This is barely the end of the first day and out of 503 contestants, there are only forty-one examinees left. 

Clementine knows that she should be more concerned about how many people died in the span of a single day, but right now she’s trying not to freak out over how close she is to her celebrity idol.

Does this make her a bad person? Perhaps. 

Does it bother her enough to stop her from asking Menchi for an autograph? No, not at all. 

Although, in order to do that, she has to approach the Gourmet Hunter first; and the without the barrier of food offerings to hide behind Clementine is petrified of talking to the woman. 

“Just do it,” Hanzo says sagely and gently pats Clementine on the top of her head- since her back is covered with bandages and they both have a feeling Leorio might just bite his hand off if he messes up the carefully applied gauze. “The art of  _ Ninjutsu  _ states that allowing fear to cloud one’s mind is akin to giving up entirely.”

“Is it really giving up if I never started to begin with?” She contemplates and scowls when Hanzo tugs at a lock of hair that came loose of her ponytail. He doesn’t say anything; and honestly, he doesn’t have to. The look he’s giving her makes her feel as if she just finished pulling a Hisoka and killed like twenty people for the hell of it. Except the people aren’t really people- but cute furry animals that weren’t doing anything besides being cute furry animals. 

It makes her feel like a terrible person. There’s no way in hell he isn’t using some kind of weird _shinobi_ magic to make his eyes incite such overwhelming shame in her. She’s the daughter of- _not one but-_ **two** Hunters for crying out loud! Clementine shouldn’t be so weak to the disappointed look of a single ninja. 

“ _ Fine _ !” She cries and shoves the sleeping hybrid in her arms to the ninja so she can scrounge up something for Menchi to sign. “I’ll go ask for an autograph. Are you happy now!?”

Hanzo just grins and shifts the animal into a more comfortable position in his arms. He looks kinda ridiculous actually- a very fit and muscular man cradling a purring bundle of baby Felidae Strigiformes- a Marshland Cat Owl- with a silly smile on his face. 

Clementine clutches her dream journal to her chest, it has plenty of blank pages, and a pen and braces herself. She stomps away before she can think too much about what she’s about to do before she falters midstep and whirls to face Hanzo.

“Make sure you don’t wake up Numi while I’m gone,” she commands and leaves Hanzo behind with a confused cock of his head. He glances at the feathered creature. 

“She named you… Numi?” He wonders out loud and makes his way to the airship ramp. He has a feeling that by the time Clem actually gets that signature, it’ll be time for them to board the blimp.

If Clementine knew what her friend was thinking as she makes her way towards her idol- she would feel two things. The first being indignation- because  _ what the hell Hanzo _ , where’s the trust? The second, complete and utter understanding of his thoughts- because the moment she catches sight of Menchi, all the words she wants to say dry up in her mouth and she freezes.

In the crimson light of the setting sun, Menchi looks untouchable. 

The rays behind her head make it seem as if there is a halo blooming around her blue-green hair. The smile on her lips is pleased as the sounds of appreciation of the examinees, the ones that sampled the Dream Egg, reach her ears. She stands straight, tall, proud; in a way that the only thing that could hope to compare is her aura itself.

Menchi’s aura is tinted a tawny color-  _ brown in the way food is when cooked just right, golden like skin after spending long enough outdoors for the sun to kiss-  _ and when Clementine sees, when she  _ feels _ the aura she had been too panicked to notice earlier, she has to try not to burst into the enthusiastic fangirl she is inside.

Usually, she’s better at not becoming dazzled by the auras around her, but she’s been around too many auras of notable strength and vitality for her to get used to them. Also, this is Menchi? There’s no feasible way in hell that Clem can be this close to her, see her aura, and be on the verge of asking for an autograph without feeling like she’s just downed four shots of whiskey and mounted a rollercoaster. All at once.

“-ou okay?” 

Clementine blinks out of her starstruck stupor to stare at Menchi, who just so happens to be looking straight at her with those green eyes. 

Oh man, is there anything that green that exists besides Menchi’s eyes?

“I… Erm” Clem rasps out with a tongue that doesn’t feel like doing what she tells it to. “What?”

Menchi rolls her eyes, not in aggravation, thank the lord, and repeats herself. 

“I asked if you were okay, kid.” The Hunter informs her, “You’re looking a little out of it.”

“Oh,” Clem says faintly, “I’m… fine.”

Green eyes narrow in disbelief. Menchi raises a single brow. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“It’s just,” Clementine continues, grip tight enough on her pen that it’s a miracle it doesn’t explode all over her. “I was wondering if…” Her mouth feels like the Rasaha desert. 

Her next words are an indecipherable mumble. 

“I need you to repeat that,” Menchi says dryly, her lips are quirked upward. “Except maybe in a way that I can actually understand.”

“I WAS WONDERING IF I COULD GET AN AUTOGRAPH!?” Clementine shouts, pulling up her voice from the pit of nervousness it had sunk into. Except, now that she’s found her voice, she can’t seem to shut the hell up. “ I’ve read all of your books; and tried all the recipes you suggested on the third volume of your ‘Excellency of Cooking’ series, and look up to you for accomplishing so much at the age you’re at.”

Menchi, for the most part, looks utterly baffled. There's slight pink tint to her cheeks. Her aura deepens into a shade of warmer brown.

“I’d sell my left kidney if you would give me your autograph. That’s how much I respect you!” Clementine says with her face burning and the pen and paper in her shaking hands held out towards the Gourmet Hunter. “So please please please, would you sign this for me?”

There’s a snicker and Menchi whirls to glare at Buhara- who is standing a few feet away from them and trying to cover his laughter with a  _ very _ fake cough. He’s grinning when he steps closer, towering over both Menchi and Clem but projecting nothing but amusement. It’s not like Clem can find anything more terrifying than Menchi’s silence at her request, anyway. So the tallest of the two Hunters does nothing to faze her. 

The glare softens as it turns away from Buhara and back to Clem. 

“You’re a fan huh?” The green-haired woman says with something akin to wonder in her voice. It’s mirrored in her eyes, a gleam of joy and exhilaration, before it’s hidden back into the depths of the Gourmet’s emerald gaze. Menchi clears her throat and takes the notepad away from Clementine with careful hands. “I can’t deny something this simple to someone who seems to appreciate the art of cooking so much. What’s your name, Number 295?”

Clementine locks her knees and refuses to shout her happiness to the gradient sky that Menchi-  _ The World’s Greatest Gourmet Hunter- _ is about to give her an autograph. 

“My name is Clementine Zee-Amõs.” She chirps with an ecstatic smile instead. 

She doesn't miss the way Menchi’s face flashes with an indecipherable emotion before falling back into calm expression. Her heart drops.

“Any relation to Casimir Amõs, by any chance?” Menchi asks in a nonchalant voice as she scribbles a message on the notepad, her eyes intense and unreadable.

“Well, I’d hope there was a relation between us or I’d have a lot of questions for my mother,” Clem replies with a nervous chuckle, reverting to the inappropriately timed humor that is her automatic response to stressful situations- second only to sass and sarcasm.

If she had any hope of diffusing the tension- it’s gone now, burnt to ash and drifting away in the wind. 

Her words manage to make the awkwardness worse. 

Clementine shifts uncomfortably. 

She wonders why she has such terrible luck and why she can’t just keep her damn mouth shut. She clears her throat and tries with a wry smile. “I’m guessing you guys know each other?”

Menchi’s smile is stiff as she hands Clementine back her notepad. “We’ve met.”

“You’re Casimir’s kid?” Buhara is looking at Clem with appraising eyes. “Are you sure you have what it takes to live up to his name?”

Buhara’s aura drips from the air and brushes against Clem’s skin, wet and slimy _ \- like mud does after a torrent of rain, clinging to what it touches with no intention of being washed away-  _ and Clem’s skin erupts into goosebumps. She takes a defensive step back; fingers curled around her notepad and resists a shudder at the invasive and  _ cold _ feeling of Buhara’s aura on her.

People, when trying to project their aura towards someone, most often do it with the intention of intimidation. Her ability to sense  _ Nen _ , well, auras in general, makes her fully capable of telling when someone is pushing their aura towards her. 

Clem doesn’t like it when people shove their aura at her. She doesn’t like it at  _ all _ . 

In fact, it can be said that it’s one of the things that she hates more than caterpillars or her mother’s cooking. So when she  _ feels _ Buhara shove his aura at her, probably in a subtle way to test her determination to become a Hunter, she doesn’t react with the cowed attitude he probably expects from her. 

No, when Buhara projects his aura at her, Clementine doesn’t shrink back-

_ -she saw the look in his eyes after he looked her over. As if he compared her to her father but found her lacking. As if he thinks she’s becoming a Hunter out of obligation and not out of her desire. As if he doesn’t think she can become a good Hunter, much less become one of the same caliber as her parents. Clem saw that disappointed gleam in his eye. And oh, how it burns- _

-instead, she gets  **_mad_ ** _. _

“Oh hell no,” Clem grits out between clenched teeth. “You’re not trying that shit on me.”  

Her aura- _ swirling, agitated,  _ **_protective-_ ** wraps itself around her chilled bones; traveling through her veins like molten silver; pushing parts of itself up from inside her to settle atop her skin. It reacts to the unwanted aura brushing against her with vehement loathing; locks onto the tendril of Buhara’s aura that is touching her- and  _ forces  _ it away with a burst of unbridled viciousness that makes Buhara jerk back in shock.

His eyes go wide.

“I’m not trying to live up to his fucking name!” Clementine shouts, “I’m going to make it so that people know mine without any of my parent’s help, whether you think I can or not.”

There’s a silence that falls after her words. 

Then:

A new light glows in Buhara’s eyes as he looks her over once again. He apologizes with a new grin on his face. Clem wants to throw something at him for shifting moods so quickly. 

She’s going to get whiplash at this pace for trying to keep up.

“I don’t even know why it matters if I’m his child anyway,” Clem grumbles as she chances a glance at her notepad to make sure Menchi’s autograph is still in one piece after her death grip on the paper. “Why are you so touchy about him?” 

Menchi’s aura ripples in genuine disbelief before the woman tosses her head back and laughs. Clementine wants to scowl but the sight of her idol’s flushed cheeks and twinkling eyes makes her forget what anger even is. 

“Oh man, kid. He never mentioned us then?” Menchi asks between chuckles, “ He was my teacher at some point.”

Clem literally chokes on her spit.”W-What!?”

Menchi’s smile is sly as Clementine’s brain short-circuits. 

“Both mine and Buhara’s, actually.”

Clem doesn’t get a chance to ask Menchi for more information because Beans ushers everyone aboard the blimp, leaving no time for her to ask her questions. 

She is left clutching the signed notepad with burning curiosity and her mind racing. 

She lets out a mournful sigh. 

She’s not gonna get any more answers today. She can feel it. 

Clem will have to deal with her celebrity crush being the student of her father another time, it seems. Her life is tragic, honestly.

What is it about these exams that don’t let her get any answers to her damn questions!?

* * *

 

Fortunately, she doesn’t have time to mope because that’s when the Chairman starts to speak. This is a time for them to relax from the stress of the exams apparently.

Clementine isn’t about to waste this opportunity. 

She’s exhausted.

She finds Hanzo near Leorio and Kurapika, with Killua and Gon loitering nearby while muttering plans of what to do with their free time until the ship lands.

“I know what I’m gonna do first,” Clem chimes in, taking Numi from Hanzo with careful hands. “I have dried blood dried on me still and it feels fucking gross. So I’m gonna shower.”

Leorio twitches. “You're not supposed to get those bandages wet, Clem.” 

“How am I supposed to shower then?” She shoots back with a frown. “I can't just pass up the chance to get clean! God knows how long the exams will take. I refuse to stay this gross.”

“All my hard work wasted.” Leorio groans in despair. 

“Don’t be dramatic Leorio,” Clem says with a roll of her eyes. “I can make sure that they stay dry. It’s not my first time bathing with bandages on.” 

The face Leorio makes shows his disbelief. 

He opens his mouth to protest before turning his face away in a huff. He waves his hand dismissively. “I’m not going to bother! You’re stubborn enough to do it whether I tell you it’s okay or not.”

“Thanks, Leorio!” 

“IT WASN’T A COMPLIMENT!” 

They bicker for a few more minutes as they walk, as a group, to one of the rooms where they can sleep during the airship ride. 

It’s nothing flashy- just an empty room with plenty of blankets and pillows stacked on a nearby cart. If Clem is gonna guess, they’re each supposed to take one of each and spread out across the floor kinda like…  

“This looks like the set-up for a massive slumber party.” She comments, taking a single pillow and blanket for herself. The others follow suit.

“I’ve never been to a slumber party,” Gon says with a pout, choosing a spot on the ground to create a makeshift bed. “There aren’t many kids my age on Whale Island and Aunt Mito didn’t like it much when I spent the night other places.”

“I haven’t either,” Killua says with a shrug, tossing his pillow carelessly on his own blanket and shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts. He doesn’t elaborate further. 

“This isn’t a very good example of one,” Kurapika admits, “The sleeping arrangements are just similar. A slumber party is usually full of entertainment for the guests and plenty of food.” 

“I had something similar with the other students of my dojo once,” Hanzo tells them brightly, “Although one of our instructors poisoned the food and attacked us in the middle of the night as part of the lesson. But it was fun up until then.”

Everyone pauses and turns to stare at the  _ shinobi _ with baffled eyes. 

Even Killua seems intrigued by the ninja’s words and he has a tendency to pretend like they’re all lame plebeians with equally uninteresting lives.

Clementine wishes that she was surprised at the example that Hanzo brought up, but she hasn’t spent all this time with him to not know the, frankly, ridiculous way he was raised. His stories are always super cool to listen to though, so at least there’s a bright side to all the terrible things he’s lived through.

“It always astounds me how you survived to adulthood,” Clementine mutters to herself as she makes a makeshift nest out of a blanket and pillow for Numi to sleep in. The nest is placed in the corner of the room near where she sets down her own blanket moments later. 

Numi opens a bleary eye when she lowers him into the blankets, purrs at the sight of her, and falls back asleep with a soft snuffle. 

Clem raises a hand to her heart and the other to her mouth. 

He’s so  _ cute _ .

“What is that thing?” Killua asks from next to her, having moved closer so quietly that Clem almost misses his approach. His eyes shine in curiosity as he takes in the feathered feline. “You’ve been carrying it since the beginning of the Second Phase.”

Clementine pauses in her appreciation of her new animal sidekick and turns to see the others eavesdropping shamelessly, clearly dying to know the question that only Killua has vocalized. Geez, if they wanted to know so badly, they could have asked her sooner.

“His name is Numi and I love him,” Clem declares with a bright smile.

“Numi?” Kurapika repeats slowly. “You named him Numi?”

Clem rolls her eyes, “Of course I did. We found him in the Numere Wetlands. So I named him Numi in honor of that.”

“Are you sure that’s the name you want to settle on?” Kurapika says, sounding a bit pained. “Numi is a bit…”

“Kurapika,” Clementine starts, a serious expression on her face, “If you really  _ Numi, _ then you would have known that I’m great at naming things.” She shoots the blonde a shit-eating grin at the pun and continues, “For example, I have a cactus back home that I named, Spiny.”

Kurapika drags a tired hand across her face but doesn’t comment on her choice of name again. She looks like it physically hurts her to think about Clem’s naming habits.

“Yeah, but what is he, Clem?” Gon wonders as he leans in to look at Numi a bit closer. “I don’t think there was anything like him back home. I would have recognized him.”

“He’s a type of Felidae Strigiformes,” She tells them helpfully. 

Leorio’s eye twitches. “A Feli-what now?”

Clem pauses in rummaging inside her backpack, the one Hanzo has been so kind as to hold for her since her back is a mess, and replies after a disappointed glance at the aspiring doctor. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“He’s a baby Cat-Owl; a Marshland Cat-Owl, if we’re being exact.” She elaborates after no one answers her question. “Kurapika and I found him while we were making our way out of the swamp during the First Phase. His parents were dead and the vultures roosting nearby would have killed him if I hadn’t picked him up.”

“So you saved his life!” Gon exclaims with sparkles in his eyes. “Numi sure is lucky that you found him!”

“I’ve been meaning to ask, Clem,” Kurapika interrupts thoughtfully, “But how in the world did you know which way to go inside the wetlands?” 

Clementine’s smile freezes on her face. Kurapika continues, unknowing of the conflict she has just stirred inside of Clem’s heart. “Not that I’m not thankful. We would have been lost in the fog if you hadn’t done whatever you did. I’m just curious as to what technique you utilized to follow the exact path Hisoka made on his way back to the Second Phase. It seems like a very useful ability to learn.”

Kurapika’s interest is reasonable, if Clem had been in her position she should have asked the same thing. There’s just something about being confronted by a question she doesn’t know if she wants to answer that makes it feel as if Kurapika has just dumped cold water on her. 

Kurapika’s aura glides along Clem’s skin, not physically like Buhara’s aura did earlier, but in the way some auras trick her sense of touch into feeling the nature of them- _ cold, firm, unwavering; smooth, strong, unbreakable- _ because of her ability. 

Clem is conflicted. The expression painted on her face as she contemplates her response to the simple inquiry. She hasn’t known these people long, less than a day actually, and the idea of telling strangers one of her most zealously guarded secrets turns her stomach. 

But these people  _ aren’t _ quite simple strangers, are they?

Gon’s eyes are bright and curious, innocently waiting for what her reply to Kurapika’s question will be. His aura-  _ the musk of the damp earth where trees have dropped their leaves, the salt-scented air being carried by a gentle breeze- _ mimics the emotions clear on his face.

Killua has perked up in interest at the mention of a technique. Her mouth tingles with the buzzing nature of his aura-  _ sparking across her taste buds, flavorless- yet leaving the aftertaste of ozone faintly on her tongue.  _ His cerulean gaze is sharp but not hostile, attentive to what she has to say but not expecting anything truly astounding to come out of her answer. 

Hanzo, the one who has witnessed her use of her ability the most, keeps his face open and friendly. Out of all of them, Clementine knows that Hanzo will not react badly to what she can do. She’s been with him for longer than the others; and the-  _ perfume of flowers mingling with the ocean air, an austere mix of grass, sweat, and the faintest trace of steel- _ way his aura floats in the air proves that he’ll readily accept whatever she tells them.

“Hold on,” Leorio says and his eyebrow twitches violently. “You guys found your way back to the main group without any help?” 

His eyes are flooded with the same concern she can see in his aura-  _ a wavering ocean as a storm brews in the periwinkle sky overhead, the flashing blue light of an ambulance as it races past before the red has a chance to be seen-  _ and then he lets out a distressed wail at her blase nod.

“I thought that Hisoka told you guys which way to go or something! It was dangerous to run around without knowing where you were going! What if you had gotten lost!? I’m too young for you guys to make me worry like this! I don’t want gray hairs before I’m forty!”

And just like that the tension building up in Clem’s chest is gone; replaced with exasperation and- _ she won’t admit that it’s there _ \- fondness. 

The laugh that bubbles from her lips is of pure relief. She’s grinning at the mother-hen side of Leorio she hadn’t anticipated. The fact that he actually cares about her well-being in the same way he does for Kurapika’s warms her insides into a sappy mess, he hasn’t even known her that long either. 

It makes her want to tell them all the truth. Then she pauses, thinks about it for a minute longer, before shrugging. Eh, she asks herself, why the hell not?

“As long as Kurapika was with me we wouldn’t have gotten lost,” Clementine says, cutting into his rant with a cheeky smile. “Plus if we had stayed in place we would have gotten eaten by wild animals at some point too.”

Gon laughs. “She got you there, Leorio!”

“Kurapika,” Clem begins looking at the girl that’s been waiting for an answer this whole time, “What I used back then to find our way back wasn’t a technique that you can learn. Otherwise, I’d show you how to do it no problem.”

Kurapika looks intrigued. “If it wasn’t a technique then what was it?”

“Well, it was an ability I have.” She answers and is proud that there is no shaking in her voice.

“An ability?” Killua asks with a skeptical scoff, “What kind of ability could someone like you have? You’re plainer than Leorio is.”

“Hey! Don’t be rude!” Clementine doesn’t bother holding back the urge to stick her tongue out at the boy spitefully. In the background, said man sputters out an offended, “What is  _ that _ supposed to mean!?”

“And for  _ your _ information, I can sense people’s auras.” 

“ _ Yes, hello my name is Clementine and I can sense people’s auras, _ ” Killua mocks in an obnoxiously high pitched voice, “You sound like one of those fortune-telling frauds back in Zaban City. Couldn’t you have made up something cooler?”

“I didn’t make it up!” 

“You’re right,” he says, his face solemn but his aura unrepentant, “That’s too lame of an ability for you to come up with it on your own.”

“ _ You’re  _ lame!”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Uh-huh!”

Kurapika sighs, “Clem, please. You’re literally arguing with a twelve-year-old boy.”

Clementine huffs and looks away from Killua, “I can detect the auras of the things within a twenty-meter radius. Though this isn’t really accurate anymore since the last time I checked how far I could sense I was like- fourteen or something.”

“What I want to know is what the hell an aura is,” Leorio says and crosses his arms in front of him. “Your ability makes no sense if we have no clue what that is.”

“I agree with Leorio,” Hanzo says with a nod. “An explanation of what the ‘auras’ that you sense are would help a lot in understanding this ability of yours.”

“I don’t really know how to phrase it though,” Clem fiddles with fingers, looking at the chipped green nail polish from a week ago, “I mean I can try to but I’m not sure if it’ll make much sense.”

She takes a deep breath. “Okay, so most living things give off this energy, right? It’s what shows they’re alive to begin with- kinda like breathing.” She makes sure everyone is following her explanation before she continues. “Animals, humans- they all have this energy, this weird life-force that sticks to them. The potency of this energy, of this ‘aura’ that surrounds them, changes from creature to creature, from person to person.”

“Wait, I have a question,” Gon says, raising his hand over his head- like they’re in a classroom or something. His brow is crinkled in thought. “What about plants? Do plants have auras too?”

“Erm,” Clem answers eloquently, she honestly doesn’t know the answer to that. “I haven’t come across a plant that has enough aura for me to sense yet, but there might be one out there. Auras have to pass a certain threshold before I can actually sense them. Also, I probably should mention that every person’s aura is distinct. Sorta like… Like… ” She tries to think of a comparison that makes sense. 

“Like a fingerprint?” Leorio suggests helpfully.

Clem gasps and points a finger at him dramatically. “Exactly! Just like a fingerprint!”

“That’s how you knew which aura you were following back in the wetlands,” Kurapika muses, holding her chin in one hand. “You already knew what aura to follow and used it to find the testing grounds.”

The room falls quiet, though not in a bad way and Clem picks up the clothing she had set atop of her backpack before she dove into her confession. 

She still  _ really _ needs to shower and this whole conversation has been over half an hour long. Honestly, if she stays this abhorrent filthy when there’s a bathroom just across the hall she might just stab someone. She says so loudly and laughs when Hanzo’s face spasms at the mention of stabbing  _ yet _ another person.

Other conversations surge up when she mentions that other examinees are headed their way, erasing any trace of their earlier discussion. Even Killua, the snarky little shit, is helping.

It’s only when she’s at the door; hand on the knob, not yet twisting it open- that she looks back with a soft smile and murmurs a quiet, “Thank you.”

* * *

 

_ Monster. Animal. No.  _

**_Beast_** _._ _Stirring awake at the first sight of blood._

_ Tables splintering as another person is thrown through the dark mahogany. _

_ Knuckles clashing with someone else’s cheekbones.  _

_ Elbow driving up into another throat.  _

_ Crunch. Gasp. Wheeze. _

_ A whirlwind of movement, dancing around blows.  _

_ Only a single person seated. Taking in the violence with a grin. _

_ His eyes- golden, the color of kings. His hair- vermillion, like blood freshly spilled. _

_ Alcohol mingling with sweetness and iron inside her mouth.  _

_ A bottle shattering. Jagged shards thrust towards her heaving chest. _

_ No time to move out of the way. _

_ Bared teeth. Blazing eyes.  _

_ - _ **_iwillnotdielikethisyouwillnotbtheonetokillme_ ** _ - _

_ Her aura whipping, a frenzied hurricane contained by human skin.  _

_ No longer contained. Bursting outward. Forcing it all away.  _

_ Tinkling of broken windows. Thuds of collapsing bodies. _

_ The flavors growing heavier, stronger,  _ **_dizzying_ ** _.  _

_ He’s standing. He’s so close. When did he move? _

_ She has to distract him. But how? How!?  _

_ Reaching a bloodied hand. Grabbing hold. _

_ Moving. Connecting. Contact made. _

_ Golden eyes widening. Wounded hands throbbing.  _

_ Time holding still. _

_ Sweetness. Candy. Blood.  _

_ Uncurling fingers. Stepping away.  _

_ Aura erupting. Bloodlust washing over her skin. _

_ The beast under his skin- awakeawakeawake. _

_ Run. Running away. _

_ Blood in her mouth. Bubble-gum imprinted on her tongue. _

_ Bruises shaped like teeth on her knuckles. _

**_“I’ll see you again, Cle-”_ **

* * *

 

“-mentine.” Someone whispers and her eyes snap open. 

Her heart is pounding in her throat, blood rushing through her veins. A faint sheen of sweat covers her forehead, testament to the dream she just woke from. She shoots upright, casting a glance at her surroundings quickly to double-check what her senses are telling her and calming her racing heartbeat at the steady aura that fills the nearly empty room. 

“Good, you’re awake,” Kurapika says quietly and sits back on her heels. 

“Yeah,” Clem agrees, voice raspy and husky from sleep. “Just give me a sec.”

The clock on the wall reads 7:47 a.m. It’s early, but since she all but collapsed into her makeshift bed as soon as she trudged back from the shower, she’s gotten a decent amount of rest.

“I gotta do something real quick before I forget.” Her hands slip under her pillow, retrieving the notepad she managed to stash under there before she fell asleep. She scribbles down her dream while the memory is fresh in her mind and shuts the journal when she’s finished. 

Kurapika watches this all in silent amusement.

“I’m good now.”

“You have a something on your face,” Kurapika tells her with a soft laugh, gesturing to her own face to show Clem where to wipe.

Oh man, there’s drool on her face isn’t there? Well, at least it’s not dry or anything.

“Okay,  _ now _ I’m good.” Clem scrubs at the drool on her cheek with the sleeve of her shirt and grins at Kurapika. “What did you need?”

“The airship has been delayed,” Kurapika says, “And since you fell asleep without eating any dinner first, I figured I should wake you so that you can at least eat some breakfast with us.”

Clementine gets on her feet, yawning loudly and stretching. She folds her blanket and tucks it on the cart she found it on the night before, placing her pillow atop it and picking up her backpack. She slips on a single strap and follows Kurapika out of the room.

“Everyone else is awake?”

“They’re in the dining hall already. Also, Hanzo took… Numi, with him.” 

The words give Clem pause. “Hanzo has Numi? Why?”

“He woke up hungry and in quite the bad mood,” Kurapika answers with a laugh, “It’s a surprise you didn’t wake then- what with all the squawking and all.”

Clementine tries to imagine the scene the others must have woke up to as they push open the dining hall doors and clutches at her heart at what she comes up with. 

Numi was probably so cute when pecking people for food at seven in the morning.

She wishes she could have seen it. She would have taken  _ so  _ many pictures. 

Kurapika leads her to the food and when Clementine has a large plate stacked with things she wants to try, guides her to where the others are sitting. The Chairman personally approaches them to tell them that Gon is alright, simply resting, after spending most of the night trying to steal a ball away from him.

Killua’s aura hums dangerously to the Chairman’s presence and trembles in outrage when the Chairman mentions the game they were playing. Clem restrains the urge to narrow her eyes. 

Something happened there last night. 

Nothing too bad from what she can pick up from Killua’s aura; since the Chairman’s despite being absolutely-  _ blinding, overpowering, terrifying _ \- doesn’t as so much as twitch with any sign of what the man is feeling. She doubts Killua, being the prideful kid he is, will tell her what it was though- so she pushes it out of her mind with a mental sigh.

At least they know where Gon is now, so they don’t have to worry anymore.

After the Chairman’s news and his departure; things are much light-hearted. 

Numi purrs from his place in Leorio’s lap. Kurapika flips through a book she must have packed to read. Killua flicks chunks of food at in Numi’s direction and seems to enjoy watching the way the tiny animal snatches them from the air with a clack of his beak. Clementine and Hanzo are shoveling food in their mouths as if they haven’t eaten in days- which is a lie, they ate the Dream Eggs back in the Second Phase. 

Clementine causes a minor scene when she realizes that Hanzo is eating food that he didn’t prepare himself, to which the ninja gives her such a convoluted and freakishly long reason as to why his behavior is justified that Clem doesn’t even remember half of it.

If she’s going to be honest, her mind is on the dream already fading from her mind. For some reason, something about it has stuck with her and refuses to leave her. She just can’t put her finger on what that ‘something’ happens to be. What could there be to worry about from a simple dream though? Honestly, doesn’t Clem have enough to worry about while awake?

Her musing are cut short when a chunk of pancake hits her in the cheek. 

Her eye twitches. 

“ _ Killua,”  _ she sings eerily, “ _ You really shouldn’t have done that.” _

The fact that he flicks egg at her does nothing to calm her wrath. She hurls a sausage at his face. He dodges it, but Clem refuses to rest until she has vengeance. She throws everything on her plate at him and finally manages to hit him at last with a glob of whipped cream when he’s distracted by Numi moving out of Leorio’s lap and into his.

Killua looks so bewildered by the frothy whiteness on his nose that she can’t help but cackle. He scowls at her, but it’s ruined by the pink in his cheeks. Clementine laughs harder.

Ultimately, breakfast is super fun. 

Although, since Gon missed it, Clementine wraps some food and stows it away in her backpack to give him when she sees him again. It’s not fair that he goes hungry when the rest of them have already eaten.

Before she knows it, Bean’s voice crackles through the P.A. System; warning them that the ship will soon arrive at its destination. 

They meet up with Gon on the way to the boarding ramps and Clementine makes sure to hand him the bundle of food she packed away for him before it slips her mind. 

The ship lands. The ramps open.

They set foot on the Trick Tower.

And then, the Third Phase of the Hunter Exams begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget guys, leave a comment about what you'd like to see in either the next chapter or on a short omake of its own.   
> Remember to comments and tell me what you think about the story so far.   
> It's been a wonderful year together, and I hope we can see Clem grow much more in this year that comes.   
> Thank you all for reading! C:


	13. Clementine and the Third Phase (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which people fall through doors; magicians don't know how to play nice, and the group moves quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello, it's me. The author.  
> I'm here to thank you all for sticking with this story for a year since I first posted it and for all the interest it has gained since then! It makes me happy to know that so many people have read and enjoyed my story so far, although the lack of comments somewhat irks me lol.  
> This chapter is extra long because I have a hard time stopping once I actually get to writing, so I hope you enjoy the 7k update! Don't forget to comment and tell me what you think about this chapter!  
> Thank you for reading.

“So we’re supposed to think of a way to get down from this tower?” Clementine muses aloud, watching as the Hunter Association airship grows smaller in the distance. She’s not sure of what to make of the instructions given to them, it seems a little too straightforward for what the exams have proved to be. In all the phases they’ve gone through, in the Preliminaries as well, there’s been a hidden danger or double meaning to the orders given to them. There must be one here too, even if Clem can’t see it herself.

“Hey Kurapika,” She says as she peeks over the edge of the tower to see if it’d be easy to climb down. She regrets it almost immediately. The drop is stomach turning. They’re so high up that she can’t see the ground past the cover of clouds that surrounds the tower. She wonders how long it would take to hit the ground if someone were to fall from this altitude. Would there be anything left of them besides a bloody smear to scrape off the concrete, or wherever it happened to be that they landed? 

Clem clears her throat and moves away from the edge at the thought. “You’re the smart one of this group.” She comments and dutifully ignores Leorio’s and Killua’s sounds of protest. “Do you think we can climb down the side of this without falling to our deaths?”

Numi leaves his perch of Hanzo’s shoulder- more like the poof that Hanzo wears on his shoulders as a fashion statement- where he’s been roosting since they got off the airship and flutters into Clem’s arms. He’s clearly enjoying the warmth from the sun and basking in the light if the purring is any indication. 

Maybe one day, Clem is going to get tired of holding the cat-owl whenever he decides he wants to be carried. But for now, when Numi blinks his slitted eyes innocently and with a hint of sleepiness- she forgets the complaints she may have in the future and holds him close.  

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Kurapika answers with a troubled look in her eyes. She has her hand on her chin in thought, brows drawn together as she tries to piece together the puzzle given to them. She moves closer to the edge of the roof as if assessing the height of the tower and the lines on her forehead grow more pronounced. She backs up more gracefully than Clem did, “Scaling down this might just be suicide.”

Clem is not very good at making plans- the only idea that comes to her mind is to try to scale down the side of the stone tower regardless and to hope that they don’t slip and die. Still, maybe it’s worth mentioning? It’s not like anyone else has suggested anything yet. 

Clementine opens her mouth to bring up her suggestion to Kurapika- who just so happens to be the one with the greatest chance of coming up with an idea that won’t result in them having to climb down the side of the tower- when the voice of an examinee cuts through the chatter and interrupts her before she can speak.

“Maybe for you guys,” He says with a derisive chuckle, “It would be impossible for  _ normal _ people to climb all the way down without dying.”

Number 86 doesn’t look very impressive for all the attitude he’s giving them. Plus, for all that his aura faintly tastes like dust and desert- it’s just not as bright as the auras of some of the other examinees. The reason Clem hadn’t taken note of who he was before is probably that his aura was drowned out by those much stronger than his. 

Still, she pays the man more attention as he confidently moves to the edge of the tower and slides his legs over, twisting his body so that his back is to the open sky behind him. He settles his feet in cracks that Clem wouldn’t have noticed if it had been her in his position and fits his fingers into crevices small enough that she wonders how it is his hands don’t slide out. 

“I’m a national rock climbing champion,” he says with a cocky grin as he starts to make his way down the almost smooth face of the tower. He’s quickly out of sight although his voice carries to the examinees easily. “I can do this no problem.”

Clem finds that she’s not the only one of the group to peek over the edge of the tower to watch #86’s progress. 

“Wow,” Killua comments with an impressed look on his face. “He’s really fast.” 

“I wonder if this is good training,” Hanzo mutters thoughtfully to himself, holding his chin in one hand. “Would  _ Sensei _ approve?”

He misses Leorio’s look of astonishment. “You’re thinking about training, right  _ now _ !?”

Clementine only pays half a mind to Hanzo’s response to Leorio, cocking her head to the side as something unknown pings on her senses. 

“I don’t think he’s gonna make it to the ground,” Clem says, her blunt words cutting through the conversations with ease. She makes sure to speak low enough that her voice does not carry. “There are four things headed straight towards him.”

Kurapika sends her a searching look, “Are you sure?”

Clem glances at Kurapika out of the corner of her eye and doesn’t say anything.

Number 86 keeps climbing down, agilely finding footholds that would be impossible to recreate without experience. Although, now that Clem knows he’s going to die, he doesn’t seem that impressive at all. Are his climbing skills worth marveling over when he’s just going to be another nameless casualty of the Hunter Exams, another aura snuffed out? Clem doesn’t really think so.

Number 86 pauses in his descending, looking around in confusion. 

It’s shortly after that they all hear the flapping of wings. 

The beasts appear only a moment later. They round the edge of the tower with an ear-splitting screech. 

“What the fuck are those things?” Clem hisses out in disgust as she catches sight of the creatures. 

The things have deep red skin, a kind of mottled shade that reminds her of the color of old scabs. They have six,  _ six _ , legs in addition to their featherless wings. That’s not even mentioning the fact that they’re freaking huge. Their bodies are enormous for things that are meant to hunt in such empty skies. 

Looking at them from this distance makes the hair on Clem’s neck stand on edge, so she can’t imagine what #86 must be feeling right now. Well, she doesn’t have to imagine. His aura is  _ screaming _ , trembling with the terror that he’s experiencing. He grows pale. He’s directly in front of the things with squinted eyes and mouths stretched open; the things with no pupils and so many teeth that they’re visible from here; the things focused on only one thing and salivating as they fly closer.

Clem sees Number 86’s mouth move but his words are quiet, terrified. It’s only when one of the creatures swoops in and clamps it’s jagged teeth around the lower half of his body that his words get as loud as his aura. 

“HELP ME!” He screams as the creatures soar above the tower and take to the skies overhead: his voice growing faint as the creatures quickly fly out of sight. Leaving only the trace of his existence the rogue splatters of blood on the top of the tower- where it dripped out from between the creature’s teeth- and the image of his terrified face, contorted in horror so absolute as the top half of his torso dangled out from the creature's mouth, imprinted on all of their minds.

They step back from the ledge quietly, as one.

“I think maybe we should find another way down,” Leorio says shakily.

They all murmur their agreement without hesitation and move away from the edge of the tower, not wanting to test what creature might appear if they linger too close.

“There must be a way into the tower from here.” Kurapika murmurs thoughtfully and scans the top of the tower with sharp eyes. “There are fewer examinees out here than when we began.”

“Wait really?” Gon exclaims and looks around in shock. 

“Actually, now that you mention it,” Clem says sheepishly, “There are some auras inside the tower. They must have found the way in that you’re talking about, Kurapika.”

Numi is still nestled in her arms and  _ man _ is it getting too hot to carry around a ball of feathers. Clem will feel super bad if she wakes him up from his little nap when he looks  _ so freaking cute _ , so she grits her teeth and tells herself to bear it for Numi’s sake.

The scarce clouds that exist in the sky above the tower are wispy and thin, even if they were nice and plump- they’re not moving at all. It’s just the sun and the examinees below it, nothing between them. There is no doubt in Clem’s mind that the heat will grow worse as the day progresses, especially since the top of the Trick Tower- where they’re all gathered- lacks anything that can be used for shade. 

Truth be told, if Clem had pale skin, she’d be afraid of getting a sunburn. As it stands, she’s probably gonna end up a few shades darker than when she started out. Although, she’s mostly concerned that Killua and Kurapika might fry under the heat if they don’t find a way off this tower before the sun hits its peak. They’re both awfully fair; with Killua’s complexion being lighter than Kurapika’s (and really the kid is pale enough that Clem worries that he’s never set foot outside before in his life). 

Plus, Clem has no clue whether either of them packed any sunscreen. 

She’s not holding her breath. 

Clem shakes her head and wonders if anybody here is as well prepared as she is. 

“My dear friends,” She declares cheerfully, cutting through the silent examination of the ground they’ve decided to participate in. They’re looking for a trapdoor, something suspicious that shows a way into the tower but have yet to find anything. 

“Well, actually maybe just my freakishly pale friends,” She says after a moment’s pause but remembers that UV rays don’t differentiate between who it beats down upon. “No wait, I was right the first time.” She nods to herself and clears her throat.

“I’ve got something amazing to prevent any suffering from the sun you might experience. It’s called  _ sunscreen  _ and I’ve got the  _ really _ good stuff. It’s like, SPF 95 or something like that- so you can bet your ass that it’ll protect your skin.”

“Sunscreen, Clem?” Killua raises a pale eyebrow, somehow getting across the point that he’s wondering how she’s survived so long in general, not just the exams. 

“Yes, my dear child!” She shouts enthusiastically, eyes twinkling with passion, “Sunscreen is the #1 dermatologist recommended way to protect from skin damage! It will protect you all from sunburns!”

Killua rolls his eyes at her spiel about the wonders of sunblock but Kurapika, the wonderful reliable other female of the group, comes to her rescue so she doesn’t look like a complete idiot.

“I’ll take some sunscreen, Clem,” Kurapika says with a grimace towards the blistering sun above, “My skin burns if I don’t put some on and I ran out just yesterday.”

Clementine beams and skips to the front of the group, chiding them for not following Kurapika’s example as she moves Numi to her left arm. She shifts her bag off her shoulder and holds it out so the other girl can grab ahold of it. 

Kurapika stretches out her own arm, a “Thank you,” escaping her in a relieved murmur as she goes to take the bag. 

It happens so fast that there’s no time for any of them to react.

Clementine falls.

* * *

 

The ground slides open with a nearly silent grinding of stone, the heavy slab of rock falling open like a swiveling door right underneath the confused girl in front of him. Her eyes are wide. The cat-owl in her arms lets out a startled screech as they both start to fall.

Kurapika moves. Dropping the bag in his hands and throwing himself towards her. His hands are outstretched for the single one she reaches in his direction, fear stark in her gaze. Behind him, Hanzo and Killua erupt into action at the sight- but the three of them close their fingers around empty air. 

“Clem!” Hanzo cries out, shock and horror heavy in his voice. He tries to pry the heavy stone back open with his bare hands. “Clementine!”

It doesn’t budge, even when the others join in the attempt. 

“Kurapika, what the hell happened!?” Leorio demands after they’ve managed to pull Hanzo away from the now normal looking ground. His eyes, visible from the angle he faces Kurapika from, flicker from the spot where Clementine vanished and back towards him. Worry is etched onto every line of Leorio’s face. 

Yet, it has nothing on the slumped shoulders of the ninja- who lets Gon and Killua do their best to distract him despite how much it seems he wants to do nothing more than keep digging at the ground. He knew her for longer than they did. Of course, he’s more distraught than they are that his friend is gone. 

He makes sure that none of the guilt he feels from being so close but yet too slow, shows on his face. He takes a deep breath to center himself before his mind forces him through the other times he’s been too late and slow to make a difference. 

_ Corpses strewn across the ground like ragdolls, empty sockets weeping blood as the village around him burns- _

Down that path, there is nothing but aged grief and undying rage at both himself and the world. He cannot get lost in those thoughts now. 

Perhaps later, when he can be alone in his grief he will allow himself time to mourn once again. But right now he has to keep on going- for the sake of those he’s lost and the promises he’s made their ghosts. 

“She fell into the tower,” Kurapika says in a voice steadier than he actually feels like. Clementine’s backpack is still on the ground from where he dropped it in his rush to reach her. He picks it up with careful hands. “It looks like she stepped on a disguised door that leads inside.” 

He tells himself that without Clem falling into this entrance it would have taken longer for them to find out just how the other examinees were entering the tower. Even if when Kurapika imagines the same thing happening to Leorio or Gon he feels ill.

He tells himself that everyone who registers for the Hunter Exams does so with the knowledge that they may die for their efforts- and that it’s not his fault if Clementine dies in this upcoming portion of the exams. Still, there’s part of him that slides Clem’s backpack onto his back despite his own satchel already on his right shoulder- that hopes she makes it out of the tower alive. If only so that the last image he has of her isn’t the sight of her eyes wide in shock, mouth in an open in an ‘o’ shape- as she falls into the darkness beneath her feet. 

_ -the frozen expressions of his brethren, terror etched onto their faces and twisting the faces of everyone he knew into unidentifiable things- _

“Me and Killua saw people going through the ground earlier,” Gon turns away from Hanzo, who looks calmer than before, and towards Kurapika. “But we weren’t able to get the doors to open after they went through.”

“That must be how people have been entering the tower,” Kurapika says in realization. It’s the only explanation that makes sense. “The doors must only work once and for one person at a time., so we need to find a door for each of us. ” 

“I think I found some over here.” Killua gestures them close a few minutes after they split up to search for hidden doors and points a thumb to the ground behind him. “There are a couple of hidden entrances gathered here.”

“There's no way that they'd lead us all to the ground.” Leorio speculates as they all stand beside a separate door. Kurapika resists the urge to do as Clementine does and simply strike Leorio for his idiocy. 

Truly, he shouldn't be surprised. He should have expected Leorio, out of all of them, to be the one to break the unspoken agreement they have about not mentioning Clem near Hanzo. 

The ninja has been teetering between rage and tears since she fell into the tower.

There's also the fact that Kurapika most definitely does not need to think of the chance that Clem fell into a trap when he's already concerned about her wellbeing since she has a penchant for running into trouble. After the idea is brought up, it is hard to not comment on it, although, Kurapika manages to control himself from doing so. 

Unfortunately, Gon has no such restraint.“Do you mean that Clem could have fallen into a trap?” Hanzo lets out a choked sound.

_ -bodies nailed into trees, messages sloppily written in blood on the sacred statues of the Kurta clan to warn away hunters returning to the village, ‘ _ **_stay away, it's a trap_ ** _ ’- _

Kurapika closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

“Shit. I didn’t even think of that.” Leorio hisses out in a sharp breath. He drags a hand across his face. “She’s still got those injuries on her back too.”

The bloody injuries from the Second Phase, Kurapika had almost forgotten about those. By the winces he catches from the others, they almost did as well. 

“She’s sturdy.” Hanzo cuts in firmly, his eyes glossy and greatly resembling a kicked puppy but steadfast in his declaration nonetheless. “Clem will find us at the bottom of the tower, I’m sure of it. She’s got a way of finding trouble but always manages to get out alive.” 

“Either way,” Kurapika tells them seriously, choosing to change the subject before they get sidetracked. “The fact of the matter is that we must go through these doors in order to finish this phase. Traps aside, they’re the only way into the tower and we don’t have time to waste.”

“I’m going through mine,” Killua says without hesitation. 

“Me too,” Gon adds in agreement. “Traps or not, I won’t let it stop me.”

“Luck is just as important to a  _ shinobi’s _ life than training is,” Hanzo tells them sagely. His lips quirk up into a small smile. The first since Clementine has been gone. “Our luck here will determine our future.”

“I’ll make it there for sure,” Leorio boasts with a wide grin. “Not sure how you’ll all survive without me.”

“You would have just slowed us down, old man,” Killua tells him dryly. 

“This is where our paths will split,” Kurapika says and thinks about how the stone slab had settled quietly back in place over Clementine’s head; how her path has already split away from their own. 

“On the count of three?” Leorio scrambles for his suitcase as Gon starts counting down. 

“One!” Hanzo looks at the sky for a moment longer. 

“Two!” Killua shoves his hands in his shorts but can’t hold back the grin on his face. 

“Three!” Gon shouts in excitement. 

Then, they’re all stepping on their own doors- falling into the unknown awaiting them below. Kurapika tries to not think about how it reminds him of an open grave.

* * *

 

The ground opens up beneath her feet, a hungry empty maw. 

It drags her down before she has a chance to do anything else but blink in horror at the emptiness beneath her feet. Her eyes are wide and her hands full of Numi. She’s falling but not registering it. She can only see the stricken expressions of her friends as they lunge for her outstretched arm- feeling their auras spasm in grief and guilt as the floor settles back into place above her head when they’re too late...

Adrenaline rushes through her veins. Her heart speeds up- stutters, races.

Clem knows who’s in the room with her before she even hits the ground. 

She knows as soon as the taste of his aura blooms on her tongue; as soon as her aura wraps itself around her in warning and makes nerve in her body sing in danger, in anticipation. She scans the dim room for any sign of him and sees him, twirling a single playing card between his fingers, leaning against the furthest wall from her. There seems to be genuine surprise on his face as watches her, as if he expected anyone other than her to come tumbling through the ceiling. 

Then, she  _ actually  _ lands in the room.

She stumbles as Numi beats his wings in her arms but rights herself before she can gracefully fall onto her face. Her back feels naked without her backpack and she spares a moment to glance at the ceiling she dropped drown from mournfully. Who knows when she’ll see her backpack again. 

“Clementine.” 

If he were anyone else, Clem would wonder how it is that he manages to so freaking intimidating without having to do anything else but say her name- but there is a predator that lives in the lining of Hisoka’s skin and Clem guesses that’s explanation enough.

Hisoka’s aura thickens and it feels as if she will drown in the taste of it. It tastes like gum and iron, as always, although Clem can sense the irritation and boredom that the magician must have been feeling before she joined him. 

Before she can come up with a response to him- one that isn’t, “Well, this isn’t how I expected to die,”- the candle inside single lantern in the center of the room goes dark. Numi lets out a questioning chirp and Clementine pats his head comfortingly. Well, at least the darkness gives her an idea of what to say to the magician without sounding like a complete nervous wreck.

“Why did the light go out?” Clem keeps her eyes glued to the corner she remembers seeing Hisoka. She blinks and hears the clicking of Hisoka’s heels on the ground. He’s moving closer. She has no doubt that if he really wants, he can glide towards her without making a single sound at all. 

What an asshole. 

He's making the sound just to wind her up.

Not that it isn't working.

She carefully sets Numi on the ground and nudges him backward with her foot. He lets out a small squawk of protest but dutifully moves behind her. She tugs one of her blades out of its sheath on her hip and holds it carefully in her palm.

“Maybe this is a trap,” Hisoka answers smoothly. His voice gives away none of the agitation the idea clearly brings him, it’s limited only in his aura. It pulses dangerously and potently in the small room. “Perhaps they mean to leave us in this darkened room until the exams end or we die.”

“I don’t think that’s the case,” Clementine reasons. Her aura twines around her defensively, ready to react at any moment. “It’d be stupid for the examiners to kill us off without testing whether we deserve to pass this phase or not.”

And then, as if summoned by her words, one of the walls beside her begins to glow. 

Letters are written in a luminescent paint and they unfurl and shine in the dark.

_ [Two heads are better than one. Find a way through the maze.] _

“See?” She laughs weakly, “We’re still in the running.”

The pressure of Hisoka’s aura lessens, although it’s still all that she can taste. 

Now that she thinks about it, the last time she was so close to the magician- he tried to kill her and her friends. That was also within the first day of knowing him and with other people there as a buffer between them. How can she be sure that he won’t kill her now that she has no one around to help her if he is to try? 

The magician is almost next to her. He reads the instructions on the wall with intense focus.

The glow of the wall makes him faintly visible but not by much. 

_ [Examinees must find their way through the dark.] _

More words appear. Clem flicks her eyes between him and the wall quickly, trying to absorb the information as fast as she can without letting Hisoka out of her line of sight.

_ [ _ **_Both_ ** _ examinees must make it to the checkpoint.] _

She lets out a loud sigh of relief.

Well, at least that means she won’t get murdered before they reach the checkpoint. Clementine’s pulse is pounding in her ears. There’s a nervous hum inside her, she feels it vibrate right under her skin- a bastardized tangle of excitement and fear that makes her aura buzz like a bundle of live wires. There’s something about Hisoka in particular that makes her aura swirl this way, teetering on the edge of delight and horror at seeing him again- despite how much her common sense tells her that she’ll live much longer if she just runs away.

“You seem relieved, Clementine,” Hisoka murmurs into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. 

Her fingers tighten around the hilt of her blade. Her heart jumps into her throat.

He’s close. Too close. She can feel the heat of his body rolling off him and sinking into her skin. Her flesh erupts in goosebumps and her left side, the side he’s not almost pressed against, is cold. 

When did he move so close to her? 

This must be what a mouse must feel like before it is pounced upon by the cat.

“Were you afraid that I would kill you?” He marvels softly and Clem can see him in the corners of her vision. His eyes are half-lidded, irises dancing with molten gold. His aura grows stronger once again, this time filling her mouth with the increasing flavor of iron. “Did you think that I would appear from the darkness and-” He traces her lips with the edge of a playing card, moves it down along the line of her jaw, drags it across her throat. “-cut your pretty little throat open?” 

Her body reacts before her mind can. 

Her left-hand clamps down on his wrist.

( _Perhaps if she were anyone else- she would shove his hand away from her and take a defensive step back. Perhaps she would stay frozen in the terror that is pumping through her veins and hope that he doesn’t slit her throat. Perhaps, she would leave her life at the mercy of a man she scarcely knows or bow her head down and pray or_ -)

Instead, she uses her hold on him to pull him closer, in a mockery of an embrace, while driving her right arm upward in the same movement. His free arm blurs and catches her hand before she can do anything more than press the edge of her blade against Hisoka’s throat. 

His eyes widen in delight, a violent grin blooming on his face at her actions. His smile shows more teeth than it should.

“Do you think that I would hesitate to do the same?” She murmurs defiantly and pushes down the knife harder against his skin. He lets out a low groan as a thin red line blooms from where her blade meets his neck.

His aura, already heavy with the taste of blood that Clem can almost forget that there was another flavor, to begin with- erupts, grows more potent, laced heavily with desire. The aura is bursting out of her skin and swirling in the air around them, pumping through her veins like mercury. It pushes against the pressure of Hisoka’s bloodlust and keeps her from being overwhelmed by it, although the taste of his aura is dizzying already. 

It makes her head spin. 

“ _ Oh, Clementine _ ,” Hisoka moans and Clem can’t help but shiver at the obscene way his lips seem to curl around the syllables of her name. His eyes are heated- melted gold, poison yellow, swirling amber; they follow the blood that drips from the thin cut on her neck and pools in the hollow of her throat. 

“You make it so  _ hard  _ to resist killing you.” There’s a hunger in his eyes that tells Clem that she’s toeing a line that is better left uncrossed. Her breath catches in her chest. His aura tells her how honest he is about what he’s saying. The question is why someone like him, a killer, a predator, a  _ hunter _ , wants to kill someone as normal as her. It doesn’t make sense to her.     

Clementine jerks in surprise as a loud rumble fills the room. 

Her attention moves away from Hisoka for the briefest of seconds, barely enough to take in the sight of one of the walls sliding open, not nearly enough to make out anything besides more darkness beyond the room- but somehow enough time for Hisoka to  _ move. _

A pained gasp tears out of her lungs as she’s slammed into the ground with her arms wrenched behind her back. She hisses as Hisoka’s knee digs into her back, most likely reopening the wounds Leorio had so carefully wrapped up for her. One of his hands rakes through her hair, twining his fingers in it, lightly scratching her scalp with his sharp nails. 

Then, he clenches his hand and yanks her head back by her hair. 

She can hear Numi hissing at Hisoka from the corner she ushered him into. She prays that he stays where she told him to, she doesn’t think Hisoka is in a mood to offer mercy to anything that gets in his way right now. She’s long since realized that Numi’s mother had died back in the marsh from a slash straight across her chest, right along the path of other animals that Hisoka had killed on his way to the Second Phase. Clem doubts Hisoka would have any interesting in letting the spawn of a creature he killed on a violent whim live for very long.

“So much potential,” Hisoka leans forward to meet her glare. The shift in weight has her choking on air. He’s pressing down on her sternum now. Her neck feels like it’s going to snap back from being held at such an awkward angle. Her aura gathers in her chest and neck, reinforcing her ribs and spine so that they don’t snap under the pressure of Hisoka pressing her harder into the ground. 

“Yet so…  _ unripe _ ,” He spits out the last word like a curse and a blessing all at once. His aura is overflowing with need, frustration, and-  _ restraint? _ “Why must all the fruit I find be unripe?”

“Stop thinking about food,” Clem grits out spitefully with her last mouthful of air. Her lungs are burning for air. “Go on a fucking diet, you dick. You’re fat.”

Clem doesn’t need to look at him to know his fingers twitch- she feels it through the harsh grip on her hair and the hand that’s holding both of her arms behind her back. She can imagine the scowl he must have on his face. It gives her a vindictive sense of satisfaction. 

Then, he slams her face into the ground. 

Her teeth clack in her mouth and she’s lucky that she doesn’t bite her tongue. Her cheek going to bruise badly from this. It's pressed against the rough stone with unrelenting force. Her eyes water from the vicelike hold Hisoka has on her hair and she does her best to hold in a cry as he moves her arms higher up her back. Her shoulders  _ burn _ .

“Ah, Clementine,” He says cheerfully as he grinds her face against the floor. His aura shudders with bloodlust again and Clem imagines that may have something to do with the fact that part of her aura is surging up against his own in defiance. “I think that maybe no one has taught you about something called respect. I’d love to be the one to beat it into you.”

“Sadly, I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself if I started,” He admits with a low chuckle, “Sometimes the things I like are much easier to break than I’d like them to be.” He holds her down for a moment longer; a second that stretches an eternity as her cheekbone grinds against the ground, her lungs strain for oxygen, and her bones seem to creak under the strain.

Her aura bursts out of her skin savagely, a shockwave meant to force Hisoka back but that only makes him moan low in his throat and tighten his hold on her. Hisoka’s aura spasms with lust that grows heavier with every attack her aura makes on its owner. Clem grits her teeth against the fire in her shoulder blades and tries to dislodge him with a frantic bucking of her hips. The jerking buries the magician’s knee deeper into her back and a whimper slips out from between her clenched teeth. 

_ Fuck, this hurts _ . 

In desperation, Clementine lets her aura twine itself around Hisoka’s bloody bubble-gum aura, around the layer closest to his skin, and _sinks_ her aura into his. At that, she feels him flinch but his hold on her does not loosen. Her aura forces itself deeper into Hisoka’s with a force she knows must be causing him pain but all her actions seem to do is make his bloodlust _surge_. 

“Stop that,” He growls in a heated voice. He shudders against her and a groan slips from his lips when instead of listening, Clem lets the aura under her skin erupt outward and viciously tries to shove him away again. “I’m getting  _ excited  _ Clementine,” he pants from above her, “If you don’t stop I won't be able to stop myself from killing you.”

At his words, Clem yanks her aura back.

She’s not strong enough to hurt him at all. She’s not strong to go up against someone like him. What was she thinking? Why would she do something so fucking reckless and try to fight off someone far, far more deadly than she can dream of being?

“Good girl,” Hisoka murmurs softly, easing his hold on her hair. 

He’s pulling his aura closer to him as well, trying to force back the bloodlust that is running rampant in it. When his breathing evens out into something steadier, he unwinds his fingers from her hair and lets go of her arms. He is off her with the grace of a dancer, gliding towards the opened wall without a sign that her attacks against him had any effect. 

Clem drags pained breaths into her lungs. She waits a moment before she pushes herself upward and holds back a whimper as her shoulders scream against the effort. Her cheek is throbbing. Her scalp is as well. She brings a hand back and touches her back, wincing when her fingers come away wet with blood from her reopened wounds. She moves slowly, breathing through the ache in her entire body. 

Numi lets out a small whine and brushes against her legs. Clem picks him up with a sigh and makes sure not to jostle her body more than she needs to. She looks around the dimly lit room and sees her blade discarded on the ground a few feet away. She gathers it with trembling hands and shoves it back into its sheath angrily. 

Against Hisoka, it was nothing more than a toy. 

She seethes at her own weakness. She’s pissed at how wide the gap between their strength stretches; at how the only mark she left on him is one that he let her make; at how little effort it took him to have her on the ground and at his mercy. 

“What do you think?” Hisoka asks and she peers into the darkness beyond the newly revealed doorway. She’s quiet as she moves beside him, choking back all the insults that want to come out of her mouth and settles on a rude shrug.

“Oh dear,” Hisoka sighs sadly, holding a hand to his heart mockingly. “I hope that wasn’t all it took to break you. I tried so hard to leave you in one piece after you made me so excited, though I suppose I could have been overestimating your potential.”

“I suppose I could have underestimating how much of a piece of shit you are.” She hisses at him in defiance. Her pride stings enough without a douche-bag magician taking swings at it. 

The insult doesn’t even phase him. The bastard has the gall to chuckle as if she just made a joke instead. 

The fucking  _ nerve _ on this asshole. Clem can’t believe him.

“I’m glad that you retain your eloquence with words,” He says dryly after Clem curses him out for a few moments longer and has run out of fresh insults to use. “I would have been disappointed in you otherwise. I have great hopes for what you might become once you ripen.”

“Stop with the food analogies, you weirdo.” She mutters, the realization that she’s stuck with Hisoka until they reach the bottom of the tower hitting her at last and draining away her rage. “They make you sound like a cannibal and I refuse to associate with those.”

“I am hurt that you would avoid me over such a trivial matter.”

Clem doesn’t twitch. She swears she doesn’t.

“And I am hurt that you slammed me into the freaking ground and pulled my hair,” She shoots back as she strides over to the open wall, “But you don’t hear me complaining do you?” 

“Oh, but Clementine,” He purrs and she doesn’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking, “Maybe next time I have you on the ground with my hands pulling your hair I make sure it’s pleasurable for  _ both _ of us.” 

“S-Shut up,” Her face feels hot and it’s not just from the giant bruise on her cheek. “Have some shame.” She waits until she’s about pass through the doorway before adding, “You’re not at a high enough friend level to flirt. You’re at the same level the cashier at the Eleven-Seven near my apartment.”

With that declaration firmly made, she walks into the darkness. 

Hisoka only laughs from behind her.

* * *

 

“I can’t believe we ended up the same room after all,” Leorio mutters once again as they stop before another split in the path and take a moment to vote on which direction to go. “After I made a cool speech about meeting up with everyone at the bottom.”

Killua snorts. “What? You, cool?” 

An argument erupts between the two, though it’s clear that it’s lighthearted at its core. 

Kurapika shakes his head in silent amusement. 

After jumping through the hidden doors into the tower, he had found himself with the same group of people he had just bid his farewells to. From there on they had found the instructions for this next phase to be simple enough, a majority vote for any decisions that must be made. 

Which leads them to where they are now- wandering through the halls and guessing which turn will bring them closer to the bottom of the tower. 

“That wall looks familiar,” Hanzo says and points at a wall to their left. “I’m sure we passed it not long ago.” The wall he’s accusing of being familiar is not one they’ve seen before, in fact. Kurapika has made sure to use a marker he found in Clem’s backpack to mark the places they’ve already passed to assure that they don’t travel in pointless circles. 

At first, he was against looking through the missing girl’s bag but Hanzo, of all people, convinced him that Clementine would prefer if they used her backpack in her stead. “Especially considering how well prepared she made sure it was,” Hanzo said with a small laugh and showed him just how Clem had organized her pack. Kurapika had marveled at how much had managed to fit inside.

The watches on their wrist tell them that it’s been less than an hour since they’ve jumped into the tower. That leaves them approximately seventy hours before the Third Phase draws to its end. 

Kurapika doesn’t know how much further they have to go but he’s sure that they’re not close to the end at all. So far they’ve only voted on simple things. If the Hunter Exams is going to keep to the pattern it’s shown so far, then they should be prepared for something unexpectedly challenging to appear before them. 

“I can smell fresher air up ahead,” Gon calls in excitement, confirming Kurapika’s theories that there is more to this phase than meets the eye. They follow Gon’s steps closely and pause when they come to a walkway that drops into the open air. There are four doorways before them and a large platform in the center of the chamber. There is no way to reach the doorways from here. 

Movement from the doorway opposite of them catches his attention and Kurapika suspiciously watches as one of five hooded figures approached the edge of their own walkway. 

“Welcome,” A bald and scarred man calls to them from across the chamber, “We are the Jurors for this Trial. You will have to win three victories against us if you want to continue onward.”

“The rules are simple,” the man continues, “There is no limit. Everything goes in order to defeat your opponent. Everything is allowed! It’s up to you to decide if you want to continue. Press O to accept and X to refuse.”

Kurapika almost snorts at the idea of backing out now. Everyone around him may have their own reasons for wanting to become Hunters but doesn’t mean they’re any less determined to pass. They all aspire to fulfill their own ambitions. There’s no way that any of them will press X.

Kurapika shares a glance with everyone else. 

They all nod, though some of them are more excited than others. Gon in particular looks like he’s vibrating out of his skin in excitement for this upcoming trial. Killua sighs dramatically but can’t hold back the grin that spread on his face at the idea of a challenge. 

There’s a moment shared between them, one that is full of anticipation and determination. 

They all press down on the O button.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this update! I'm hopeful that Hisoka wasn't too out of character and that I managed to write Kurapika in a way that did him justice. 
> 
> Feel free to tell me what you think! 
> 
> Don't forget to comment and kudos down below! 
> 
> See you all next time!
> 
> Love, Morte_Sangriz.


	14. Clem and the Third Phase (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the super short chapter makes the author despair; Hanzo is kinda scary when he's serious; and paths are chosen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the shortest chapter I've written by far, mostly because I just couldn't seem to sit down and write the damned thing.  
> Also proofreading?? What's that?

The sound of footsteps fill the vacant halls. The darkness is thick, saturated and syrupy as it curls around the two of them and nips at the small circle of light that follows them as they walk. The candle is smaller now than when they first started. It’s nearly a nub, a waxy stub almost burnt to its final flickers of light.

Clementine is quiet despite how she would usually fill the silence with senseless chatter; she’s busy picking through all of the horrible things she has done in her life to deserve being locked in the dark with Hisoka. She doesn’t think she’s done anything bad enough for the universe to punish her this way but honestly, there might be something she hasn’t thought of yet. Can the universe punish people for things they haven’t done yet or does that go against some kind of cosmic law?

She’s not quite sure how long they’ve been walking, but it takes a few hours for a candle to burn out entirely so Clem assumes it’s been at least two or three. Although, the candle she’s been using to light their way through this horrible labyrinth was already missing a significant chunk of wax by the time she fell into the tower; so her estimate isn’t as accurate as she would like it to be. 

Numi is perched on her shoulder, talons clamped around her shoulder. She’s lucky that his talons have yet to grow into the enormous razor sharp monstrosities that  _ Felidae Strigiformes _ are known to develop in adolescence. He would have torn the flesh he’s holding onto into shreds otherwise. 

Numi spent the first ten minutes of their walking hissing at Hisoka and bristling whenever the magician would look away from the cards he shuffled in his hands to glance at him in interest. Clem has to hold back the urge to twitch every time she notices this. 

She’s pretty sure he’s doing it just to irk her; that or Hisoka is honestly considering eating Numi, that if Clem is deciphering the gleam in his eyes correctly. 

Actually, now that she thinks about it, he’s probably doing a lot of crap on purpose just to be douchebag- like breathe the same oxygen as her.  _ And  _ have the audacity to use his longer legs to walk much quicker than she can keep up with without breaking into a mild jog.  _ And  _ be such a dick that he lets his aura seep out and make the air near them heavier with the pressure it exudes. 

Honestly, if she had been unaware of Nen and auras, she would have collapsed from the feel of Hisoka’s aura pressing down on her. As it is, she’s ninety-percent sure that Hisoka knows that and is using his trip through the Trick Tower as a way to test just how much she knows about Nen. Hisoka doesn’t seem to know about her sensing ability or how  _ self-aware _ her aura seems to be, which is an extremely good thing for Clem. But that’s probably the only good thing about this situation.

Hisoka knowing  _ anything _ about her is bad- incredibly, incredibly bad. 

The candle drips some wax onto her fingers and Clem glares at the flame. 

“It’s your turn to hold this freaking thing,” Clementine says because she doesn’t have any self-control when it comes to keeping her mouth shut and whoever says she does is a liar, “I’ve been holding it this entire time.”

“Why in the world would I do that?” Hisoka smirks. His eyes are bright. He seems to delight in the way Clem’s face twitches at his words. “It’s your responsibility.”

“And why is that?” Clem grits out and tries to hold back the urge to throw the candle at Hisoka’s stupid smirking face. It’s harder to fight the urge than it should be considering that doing so will most likely get her killed. The aches in her body twinge in remembrance of how easy it would be for him to kill her. 

“It was your idea to retrieve the candle from the first room so it’s your responsibility now.” He brings a sharp nailed finger up, tapping his lips thoughtfully. He looks amused. “You’re a big girl aren’t you, Clementine? I’m sure you can deal with a little responsibility.”

The hand not holding the candle twitches towards the blade on her hip. Hisoka seems to catch the aborted movement because his smile looks more delighted than mischievous now. Clem closes her eyes and blows out a long-suffering breath. Maybe dying will be worth it if she can just see the look on Hisoka’s face after she wacks him with a candle. “What kind of bullshit logic is that?” 

Sure, it was her idea to go back to the room they had first found themselves in for the candle that had been there when they arrived. But she doesn’t see how that makes holding the candle  _ her  _ responsibility. 

She tosses Hisoka a glare. “You just don’t want to hold it, do you?” 

Hisoka laughs. “Now, now, you say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

Ahead of them, the path splits into two different directions. 

“Oh how fun!” Hisoka says cheerfully, spreading both arms outward in an dramatic sweep. “It’s a game of choice.”

They come to a stop at the split in the path just as the candle sputters out. The darkness that had been held at bay by the dim light surges forward, wrapping around them and making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. As if partial lighting hadn’t been had enough, now she’s in absolute darkness with Hisoka. She turns her head upward in despair and wonders why things like to go so wrong for her. 

Life really isn’t fair. Where is the equality, the justice?

“What way do think we should go?” Clem asks in grumble. Hisoka might be serial killer weirdo but he’s strong and something Clem has come to notice is that the stronger someone is, the better instincts they have. She’s not above using this odd quirk of those stronger than her to make sure she survives. 

Plus she doesn’t want to be responsible for guiding them into a death trap so she’ll leave up to him to decide where they should go-

“Why don’t you choose?” 

- _ or _ Hisoka could dump the responsibility of their lives into her wax covered hands without second thought. 

“I don’t really think letting me decide is such a good idea.”

She can’t see the expression on his face- hell, she can hardly see a foot in front of her face- but the way she has the sudden urge to scowl, makes her feel as if Hisoka is pouting at her in the darkness. His aura doesn’t give much away; nothing besides anticipation for what path she chooses, at least. 

“Now Clem,” His finger pokes her cheek and Clem jerks back. She’s not sure how he even knows where her face is but he has some freakishly sharp nails that she doesn’t really want to feel jab into her face again. “It’s not fun to give up before you’ve had a chance to take a wager.”

Hisoka’s aura is spread out in the air around them, which makes it infinitely harder for Clem to discern exactly where the magician stands in the darkness. If she narrows in on the cloud of his aura, focuses-  _ heavy iron filling her mouth, saliva thick with sweetness of a candy she’s never tasted in her lifetime, metallic and tartness combining on her tongue like an exotic new flavor- _ then Clem can faintly hold the outline of Hisoka’s location in her mind’s eye. The body always has a stronger, more potent concentration of aura than when it’s released into the air. 

She can visualize the way his aura clings to his skin, to each pore it languidly exudes from. In this way, she will not ever be truly blind in the dark. It takes a lot of concentration thought and doesn’t do much to stop her from bumping into solid walls, so it’s not as helpful as she would like it to be. 

Right now, she’s using this technique- this awesome extension of her ability- to know when to swat at Hisoka’s hand like a petulant child when he pokes her cheek again. 

“Stop poking me,” She hisses and considers biting Hisoka’s finger when it approaches her for a third time. “I’ll choose a path, damnit. Just keep your pointy fingers to yourself.”

The aura outlining Hisoka’s body shows how he pauses minutely- though she can’t make out whatever the expression on his face may be. She’s not that good at this aspect of her ability; she’s never really had much hands-on practice with it and hasn’t really perfected it past the stages it’s currently at. 

“My life is in your hands,” He says brightly, as if she didn’t been stressed enough without his little comment. Clem is full of spite and ignores him, pretending she doesn’t hear him and musing over what path they should take. 

Clem’s senses are telling her that on the path to the right there are various auras awaiting them, most of them strong enough for her ability to pick up on. The path to the left is clear of any aura signature but something in her gut tells her that it’s too simple for it to be anything less than a trap. 

She puts a hand to her chin, stuffing the tiny candle nub into her pocket because she’s honestly not sure if it’ll come in handy later. If she tries, she can imagine that everyone is here with her and what they would think about the fork in the path. 

Clem is sure Kurapika would agree with the decision that the path on the left is too easy. Leorio would be saying something about the path on the right being the obvious trap if there are people there waiting in ambush. Hanzo and Gon wouldn’t be very helpful either, excited beyond rationality about venturing into the great unknown of either path. Killua would be saying something snide and rolling his eyes at everyone’s varying opinions on the situation.

Clem sighs. Even imagining her friends are there to help her make the decision isn’t very helpful. If only this was one of Killua’s stupid video games, that way she could just apply video game logic to everything and make her life easier. 

Wait a second… Clementine pauses, blinks at the darkness surrounding her and smiles. 

“I know which path to take.” She says and turns, Hisoka’s heels clicking on the stone as he follows her lead into the inky shadows of the tower.

* * *

 

The fist comes at his throat without warning, only seconds after the first round has begun. 

Hanzo catches it in his palm, blinking at the burst of speed of the scarred man but not particularly impressed. His fingers curl about the fist and in a movement almost too quick for the eye to catch, slams the heel of his palm upward into the man’s chin. Spittle flies out of his mouth, tinged red from where blood mixes with the saliva.

“ _ Holy shit _ ,” He hears Leorio shout, “What the hell just happened?”

Hanzo almost laughs at the sheer shock in his voice. 

“That was so cool!” Gon cheers from the sidelines, “You were so fast, Hanzo!”

“That was nothing,” He brightly calls to the others, knowing that Clem would be calling him a show off if she was present. This simply the result of being a student of the shinobi arts for his entire life. It'd be more astounding is Hanzo  _ hadn't  _ been able to counter such a sloppy first attack on automatic.

The man lurches backwards, a large hand nursing his jaw and trying to move out of Hanzo’s reach. He looks shocked at the graceful way Hanzo countered his attack, while simultaneously launching his own. 

“The match doesn’t end until one of us yields, right?” Hanzo asks, just to clarify, since he doesn’t want to be the one to lose his match on a technicality. His opponent rubs his chin and gives a slow nod. 

Hanzo scratches his cheek absentmindedly and grins. “That’s simple enough.”

On the sidelines, Leorio sputters in disbelief, “That was nothing, he says. That’s simple enough, he says.” 

“Let me show you,” Hanzo calls over with a chuckle.

The ninja  _ blurs _ forward, appearing behind the man in the span of one blink to the next. Hanzo’s face is devoid of the smile from earlier. His eyes are cold. He twists the man’s arm behind his back, kicking the back of his knees with enough force for a loud  _ crack _ to resound through the cavernous room. 

The man drops to his knees swiftly. 

“Do you yield?” Hanzo asks in a tone of voice similar as to how one inquires about the weather. 

The man lurches forward, shocking Hanzo for the briefest of seconds into loosening his hold. He is willing to allow his arm to be wrenched out of its socket in order to escape Hanzo’s grip. The man grits his teeth against the scream that his dislocated shoulder brings to his throat and without blinking away from Hanzo, forces it back into place. 

“No,” The man grits out between bloodied teeth. 

Hanzo gives a small shake of his head. “It’s valiant that you’re holding on to your convictions even in the face of adversity but-” He steps forward, eyes locked on the man in front of him. “-I’ll break your arm if you don’t yield now.” There is no tone of humor in his voice. 

In the sidelines, even Leorio falls silent at his words. 

There is a blur and suddenly Hanzo is besides the man once more, gripping the man’s good arm in one hand. 

“Will you yield?” 

The man pales slightly but doesn’t yield. 

“I warned you,” Hanzo says somberly before he swings his free hand down and breaks the man’s arm.

“Next time, I will break your other arm.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll make the next chapter extra long to make it up to you guys!


	15. Clem and the Third Phase (Part III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author switches perspective quite a bit; Hisoka is back at it again (being creepy); and the gang deals with things in different ways than what the plot dictates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, yeah, I know I'm super late. I had to find the right place to split this chapter since it ended up being closer than 10k and was still going, so I just decided to split it. cx 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Sorry for all the perspective switches (not really lol).
> 
> Thank you for reading! Don't forget to tell me what you think about this chapter. Next chapter might be just as large but will wrap up this phase, then we'll be on to Zevil Island! 
> 
> Hopefully y'all as excited for that too!

**_2 HOURS GONE_ **

**_1 HOUR INSIDE TOWER_ **

**_70 HOURS REMAINING_ **

**Hanzo**

His match doesn’t last long at all. His opponent yields after both his arms are broken and Hanzo is on his way to adding a pair of legs to those shattered bones. Violence isn’t really the healthiest way to channel his frustration and worry about his missing friend but it seems to be working out well enough for him at the moment. It’s not like he killed his opponent or anything either. There’s no permanent harm done. Hanzo had even been nice enough to break the bones neatly; each a clean break so that they healed all the faster.

The self-proclaimed Jurors of the Trick Tower wait until he’s reunited with his teammates and the pathway to the center ring has been retracted from his side of the room before they dare venture out to drag their fellow prisoner back to safety.

There are still four more Jurors that they each have to face. A part of Hanzo wonders if maybe he was too hasty in jumping into the first trial; and if it would have been better had he waited for another opponent. He still has no idea what kind of abilities his friends possess or how they may fare against their enemies. 

It’s best to give them the benefit of the doubt, but Hanzo has never been one to trust blindly. He only has his observations from the previous phases to assess the strength of his companions. It is a small amount of information but just enough for him to build a rough estimate of just what level everyone around him is at. None of them measure up to his skill, of course, but amidst this group of four, there is a great capacity for growth, a potential that has yet to blossom into its final form. 

His match hadn’t eaten up too much time but he wonders if the other’s matches will make use of the time they have left without squandering too much of it. He supposes it would have been faster to kill the man the moment the match had begun rather than wait for the man to yield- but for some reason, he can’t help but think that Clementine would have disapproved of that course of action. Most of that disapproval, he’s sure, would come from him killing someone in front of the two children she seems to have grown fond of.

(Although, as he met Killua’s blue eyes on his way back to the group, he couldn’t help but think that seeing someone die wouldn’t be anything new to the boy. The boy has the eyes of a killer.)

A hooded figure steps forward from the other side of the arena and as the heavy clang of metal hits the floor- handcuffs dropping away from burn-scarred hands- the person under the cloak peels the fabric away without a moment of hesitation. The face that greets them is that of a young man with a cold spark glinting in his dark eyes. 

“My name is Sedokan.” He says, a smirk playing on his lips. “I will be your next opponent.”

Just from a single glance, Hanzo can see that the sallow-faced man will not make his trial something into anything relating to physically fighting another. He holds himself too awkwardly to be a fighter; uncertain, not at the thought of violence, more at the thought of having to use his body as a weapon. There are scars on his hands, places where the skin has been burned and healed into mottled patches of discolored flesh. He must be an arsonist, Hanzo surmises and nods to himself. 

“Oh! I wanna go next!” Gon exclaims, raising his hand high in the air. His eyes glitter with excitement as he turns to look at them. Hanzo smiles at the sheer enthusiasm. “Ne, Killua, do you think fighting him would be fun?”

“I wouldn’t want to fight someone so weak,” Killua answers with a yawn and puts his hands behind his head lazily. “It’d be a waste of effort.” 

Gon pouts and the blinding excitement dims in his confusion. “Eh? How do you know he’s weak?”

“I just do.” Killua snickers. He sticks his tongue out at the other boy. “It’s not hard to figure it out. Just look at him. It’s clear he’s not a physical fighter. He’s too scrawny.” Hanzo cocks his head at the comment, amused at the fact the boy had arrived at the same conclusion as himself albeit via differing observations.

Hanzo bites down a chuckle at the statement. It’s an ironic thing for someone as small and inconspicuous as Killua to say about another, especially since the boy has a frail appearance at first glance as well. There’s no way that Killua isn’t constantly underestimated because of the delicate shape of his face, his wide blue eyes, his exotic white hair; if Killua hasn’t been coddled by strangers for his outward appearance at the presence of danger at least once before- then Hanzo will bite his tongue. 

Kurapika seems to share his amusement at the words, his lips twitching up into a smile at Killua’s declaration. The blond must share the same dilemma as Killua does, or has at least experienced it for himself. If Hanzo hadn’t been the ninja he is, he might have actually believed that Kurapika- with his rosy lips, golden blond hair, upturned grey eyes framed by thick eyelashes- was a woman. The misunderstanding wouldn’t have lasted very long- he’s not an  _ idiot-  _ but the fact that it’s something that might have led to some confusion on his part says enough. 

“I bet even  _ Leorio _ would be able to beat him.” Killua continues, shooting a glance at the man beside Hanzo before shaking his head and correcting himself. “Well, maybe not Leorio, but you get my point, don’t you, Gon?”

Leorio scowls. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean!?”

“It means just what I said it means.” Killua drawls and Hanzo can see that the boy is genuinely having fun verbally poking at Leorio. “Weaaakling.”

“I’ll make you eat those words!” Leorio sputters in outrage. He glares at Killua and shoves his briefcase into Hanzo’s arms. The ninja can’t help but wonder why it is that people seem to enjoy filling his arms with things to hold- first Clem with Numi, and now Leorio with his belongings. 

The bespectacled man marches across the steel walkway with his nose in the air and comes to a halt in front of Sedokan. He unhesitantly points a finger at the Juror.  

“Bring it on!” Leorio says, determined, “  _ I’ll  _ be your opponent.”

* * *

 

**_2 HOURS GONE_ **

**_1 HOUR INSIDE TOWER_ **

**_70 HOURS REMAINING_ **

**Leorio**

Sedokan, or whatever the hell his name is, nods at his words and gives him a creepy little smile. His greasy hair flops over his face with the movement and Leorio can’t help but shudder at the sight.

Having grown up poor as hell and having every aspect of his appearance reflects that fact; he can’t stand the idea of looking anything less than put together now that he's older. Leorio isn’t that same kid that watched his friend waste away from illness, unable to do anything about it but lament the unfairness of his place in life. Leorio is a man with his ambitions clenched  _ tight _ between his teeth, where they cannot slip from his hands whenever he stumbles upon his chosen path but raises himself up nonetheless. The man he is now is always well dressed- even after the exhausting phases, the Hunter Exam has put him through- in his black slacks and white button-down shirt. The sleeves of his shirt are neatly folded up his forearms. His hair is neatly slicked back. 

This is how he can prove to himself how far he has come. It is a reminder to never let himself sink back to where he has come from, amidst grimy streets and slanted shacks and diseases that killed too many children before they had a chance to live.

“I’ll choose the challenge for this round,” Sedokan declares. He raises a hand- scarred, something Leorio’s eyes as an aspiring doctor catch with ease; mottled with untreated burns that scarred into twisted skin- and scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “I’m not much of a fighter, so I chose something that puts us on even ground.”

“The one who’s candle goes out first loses.” He continues, reaching into a pack hanging from his hip and pulling out two candles. Both of them are different sizes, one short and squat- the other long and thinner. Sedokan seats himself on the ground with a knowing smile. “You can take your time choosing your candle.”

Leorio eyes the candles warily. The long one would be his obvious choice if he wasn’t positive that it has been tampered with. 

But then again… 

What if the short one is really the one that’s been tampered and Sedokan is counting on him thinking that it’s the  _ long _ one that has been tampered with instead, just so he chooses the short one?  _ Although _ , if he follows that  _ same _ train of thought then that means that Sedokan  _ knows _ that Leorio  _ knows _ that he tampered with the short candle and it’ll be the long one that’s tampered with instead.

“Ugh!” Leorio groans and clutches at his head in pain. Thinking about this is making his head spin. He’s giving himself a headache. He spins to face the others, where they’re all watching him with varying levels of interest. “Hey, guys! Help me choose a candle!”

Kurapika glances between the two candles and takes a moment to think.

Killua is laying on the ground with his arms pillowing the back of his head and kicking his legs overhead in boredom. Leorio’s eye twitches. The match hasn’t even started. Why does the little brat look like he’s been watching paint dry for the last three hours!?

Gon waves at him with a bright smile and shouts over his opinion about the candles. “Just choose the long one! It’s longer so it should burn longer right?”

Leorio forces back his urge to facepalm and turns his eyes to the final figure in his group. 

Hanzo has a frown on his face. “I’m not sure which of the two candles would be the optimal one for you to choose,” The ninja begins, “There are a lot of variables in place and so there are a lot of possibilities to base your decision on. I think I can recall a similar situation during my  _ Ninjutsu _ training although instead of candles we were dealing with poisoned blades and we had to choose which one we wanted the instructors to throw at us and-” Here Leorio’s brain zones out of the lengthy speech Hanzo is about to divulge into, as it tends to the moment Hanzo brings up anything in relation to his weird ninja training.

Leorio stares vacantly as Hanzo’s mouth continues to move and his arms gesticulate wildly. How the ninja manages to speak so many words in a single breath is a mystery to him. 

Is it even possible to say so much at once? 

“-rio. Are you listening to me?” 

He blinks and focuses on the person addressing him- the one that isn’t called Hanzo. 

“Erm, what was that Kurapika?”

Kurapika has a blond eyebrow raised and an amused smile on his face, making it clear that witnessed Leorio’s disassociation the moment Hanzo started talking about his  _ shinobi _ training. 

“I was saying that there most likely isn’t a right answer to this choice. The ability to choose your candle leads to a cycle of overthinking to which both ideas about the candles have a chance of being correct. For that reason, I think that you should just go with what your gut tells you.”

“If I knew which to choose I wouldn’t have asked for help,” Leorio mutters under his breath. He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. He turns back to face Sedokan and raises a hand lazily. “Thanks for the tips anyway guys!”

He meets Sedokan’s eyes and nods his head towards the shorter candle. “I’ll take that one.”

Sedokan smiles and stands up, gathering both candles and extending the shorter one to Leorio once he’s on his feet. “I’ll take the longer one then.”

The flaming torches that illuminate the chamber side downward with a hiss, sinking to a level where they both can reach and ignite their selected candles. Leorio watches the flame catch on his candle wick and walks back to his spot. He tries not to think of the fact that he’s literally going to be waiting for a candle to melt. 

Here he thought his match would be something more exciting than this. 

The candles burn. Time sloughs by.

“Kurapika,” Leorio calls out at one point, mind-numbingly bored at just standing there doing nothing, “How long does it take a candle to burn out?”

“It usually takes around five to six hours. Sorry Leorio, there’s still quite some time left.”

The watch on his wrist ticks on as they both wait. The large number on the small green screen drops with agonizing slowness. Wax dribbles down along the side of the candle in milky white rivulets. The candles grow smaller and Leorio has to shield his small flame from the sudden gusts of wind sweeping upward from the chasm around the center island. 

It feels as if Leorio is going to go crazy just standing still with a candle in his hand like he’s some kind of humanoid candleholder.

Then after what feels like _ hours _ of waiting, something finally happens. 

The trap is sprung.

The candle in Leorio’s hand erupts into a blaze of wax and fire, the flame growing stronger with the help of an unknown accelerant. Leorio yelps and nearly drops the flaming pillar, hissing as hot wax splatters into his fingers and drips to the floor.  

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!?” He shouts in fury, passing the candle from hand to hand to avoid being burned too badly. It runs down the sides of the candle in thick streams and rolls along his wrist, searing the skin it touches and burning him. He’s going to have to treat his arms for burns  the moment this is over regardless, but avoiding a serious burn is his main priority besides not letting the stupid candle go out. 

“I knew this one was rigged!” Leorio shouts, outraged at having fallen for such an obvious trick. 

Of course, the shorter candle would be tampered with! The long one would be too obvious to mess with. More wax melts, dripping and hitting the ground, almost landing on his shoes. Leorio curses. He moves the candle further away from his body, trying to avoid being splashed by wax. 

From behind him, Gon calls out first.  “Leorio! What happened?” 

The others follow echo his words only seconds afterward. 

“He did something to this candle to make it burn faster!” He yells back and takes a threatening step forward Sedokan. “What the hell did you do!?”

“I gave you a choice between the two candles didn’t I?” Sedokan replies, triumphant. His sunken eyes are bright with malicious delight. “Why would I risk getting a tampered candle myself? You just chose wrong. It’s that simple.”

“It’s not that simple,” Leorio hisses, “You messed with this candle.”

Sedokan’s face remains unchanged at his accusations, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re a liar and you  _ know  _ it!”

“You’re right,” Sedokan admits after a moment and with his declaration, his face twists into a nasty sneer- a sharp contrast to the passively polite face he's been wearing this entire time. “I  _ did _ mess with the candle. But I never said that tampering with the candles wasn’t allowed, so in the end, it doesn’t change a thing.”

“ _ Bastard _ .” Fury burns hot inside Leorio; hotter than the cooling candle wax drying in thick glops over the skin of his hands and wrists. He wants to grab hold of Sedokan and shake him until his very bones are trembling from the aftermath. He wants to push this anger out from where it's buzzing under his skin and force Sedokan to feel it first-hand.

“Damn it, the candle is burning too fast,” Leorio growls to himself, eyeing the candle in Sedokan’s hand and taking note of the already drastic difference growing larger with every second. There’s no way that his candle will last long enough for Sedokan’s to burn out first. His thoughts serve as an omen, so when Leorio’s flame goes out moments later- he is not surprised. 

“I win,” Sedokan comments, a smirk on his face at his unjust victory. 

“You cheating bastard,” Leorio snarls, “You candle tampering piece of  _ shit _ !”

He drops what remains of the candle onto the floor where the still liquid wax splatters all over the floor. He curls his hands into a fist at his sides and breathes through his nose, nostrils flaring as he tries to stop himself from beating Sedokan into the floor for his deception.

“I’ll give you some time to prepare for the next match,” Sedokan says calmly, “Choose your next fighter.” Then, he turns and walks away from where Leorio stands in the center of the arena, covered in wax and  _ seething. _

* * *

 

**_2 HOURS GONE_ **

**_1 HOUR INSIDE TOWER_ **

**_70 HOURS REMAINING_ **

**Gon**

“Ne, Leorio are your hands okay?” He asks, frowning at the bright red skin that appears as the wax is peeled away and Kurapika pours water- from a water bottle in Clem’s backpack- onto their friend’s hands. He doesn’t like the thought of his friends being hurt, it makes something in his belly churn uncomfortably. Leorio flicks his eyes away from his injuries, eyes warm like they always are when they look at him, and sends Gon a reassuring smile. 

“It hurts but it’s not anything serious,” Leorio says, before asking Kurapika to look for painkillers, gauze, and two tubes, one white and the other green, in the briefcase Hanzo is holding open. Gon doesn’t understand what all that stuff is for but Leorio says he wants to be a doctor, so he’s sure that there’s a reason Leorio asked Kurapika to take it out for him. 

Gon nods, relief easing the press of worry from his shoulders. 

“I’m glad.” He says and smiles. 

Killua is lounging on a wall nearby, close enough to see what’s going on but far away enough that the others don’t pay much attention to him. Killua’s gaze is focused on the others, concerned about Leorio though he won’t ever admit it; and Gon uses this as his chance to sneak up on Killua. Gon steps closer, doing his best to be silent.

He is less than arm’s length away now, ready to startle his friend.

“Boo!” Killua shouts, face right in front of Gon’s, mouth stretched into a ghoulish grin and blue eyes shining with unbridled glee. Gon jerks back in surprise and a sound of shock escapes him. He stumbles and almost falls onto his butt. “You should have seen your  _ face _ ,” Killua chokes out past snickers and wraps an arm around his stomach as he laughs. 

Gon pouts and pokes at Killua forehead with a finger. “Don’t laugh at me Killua! I was trying to scare you, not make you laugh.” Killua swats at Gon’s hand and wipes away a tear of mirth from his eye. 

“Gon, you’re not sneaky enough to creep up on me yet.” 

Gon grins. “I will be one day though!”

“Ne, Gon,” Killua asks him, humor shifting to something slightly more serious but still unconcerned. “Are you excited about your match?”

“I’ve actually never been in a proper fight,” He admits sheepishly. Killua looks shocked.

Back on Whale Island, there weren’t any people that Gon could fight. The town was full of older adults and children too young to play with, so Gon’s childhood was spent wandering in the lush forests near Aunt Mito’s house. The animals became his friends, his rivals, his driving force towards growing stronger. But he’s never had the chance to fight another human being until now. 

“So I’m really excited to fight someone, to see how well I do.”

“This isn’t a bad place to test your skills,” Killua says thoughtfully, gaze sharpening as he looks across the cavernous chamber at the hooded figures standing together. “In fights like these, the organizers usually have the matches arranged by order of strength.” He smiles and it’s a hungry thing. “I want an actual challenge so I want to fight last.” 

“You can have the last fight then Killua,” Gon tells him, patting him on the arm softly. “I want to fight this next one. Leorio took my place in the last match.”

Across the chamber, the sound of metal clanking to the ground draws all of their attention. It’s one of the Jurors that has yet to fight. From what peeks out of the long cloak they wear, there are a pair of arms with the skin an odd shade of grayish-blue. 

Gon feels his eyes widen. That’s so  _ cool _ . 

The figure steps to the center platform with a confident stride, the hood is still pulled up over his head. “I am your next opponent.” They call in a low raspy voice. “Send out your fighter for this match.”

From beside Leorio, Kurapika straightens his back and opens his mouth to accept the challenge. Gon sprints in front of Kurapika and places his hands over his mouth. He’s bouncing on his toes.

“I’ll go next!” He shouts, breathless with excitement. “I  _ really _ want to go next.”

Kurapika casts an assessing look at him before pulling Gon’s hands away from his face with gentle fingers. He looks worried. “Are you sure?” 

Gon nods fast enough that he almost makes himself dizzy.

Kurapika lets out a sigh. “Go ahead then, just be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” He says and ignores Killua’s cough of ‘ _ liar’.  _ His friend is grinning though and that’s enough for Gon to know that Killua is teasing. “I’ll be sure to win.”

“Good luck!” Hanzo says, patting him on the shoulder enthusiastically. 

“Kick his ass Gon!” Leorio shouts, flapping his bandaged hand in the air.

Gon smiles at his friends and makes his way across the steel walkway. He comes to a stop in front of his opponent. “Hello, my name is Gon. I’ll be the one fighting you.”

The cloaked man lets out a mocking laugh. “They sent over a  _ child _ to fight me?”

Gon’s smile doesn’t waver. “They didn’t send me. I volunteered!”

The cloaked man reaches for the hood of his cloak. He grabs it with a thick hand and tears off the cloak in a single movement. Shirtless- with muscles bulging out from skin an unnatural blue- the blue man clenches his fists and lets out a loud bellow. “You volunteered to die then!”

Behind him, the others comment on the man’s appearance. 

“Oh, he’s pretty ugly,” Killua says and Hanzo murmurs an agreement. 

“That’s such a freaky body,” Leorio breathes out. “What the hell is up with it?”

Kurapika hums and says, “I’m curious as to why his skin is such an odd color.”

“Ne,” Gon asks, swinging his arms by his sides in excitement. “What’s your name, Mr. Blue?”

“Majtani,” the man answers, a cruel sneer stretching across his face. “Maybe you’ve heard of me.” He points a finger at the right side of his chest, where there are tiny hearts inked into his skin. “I killed nineteen people before I was caught. But I’m glad you’re here, it’s always bothered me that nineteen wasn’t an even number. Nice to meet you, Number Twenty.”

“What a loser,” He hears Killua scoff in derision. “He’s only killed  _ twenty  _ and is bragging about it?”

Leorio sputters in shock, “What do you mean  _ only _ twenty? The guy is a serial killer! Aren’t you worried that Gon is facing a guy like that?”

Gon blinks at Majtani. He cocks his head. “I’m not going to die.”

“You will,” Majtani growls, “Because I want to see you  _ bleed,  _ I want to see you  _ scream _ . I won’t accept a half-assed fight with a little kid. I want a fight to the  _ death _ !” He throws his head back and laughs- a grating, raspy, cruel sound. 

“Okay.” 

The laughter cuts off. “Huh?”

It’s Majtani’s turn to stare at Gon. His misshapen eyes look Gon up and down. “You shouldn’t pretend like you’re not scared just because you’re in front of your friends, kid.”

“ But I’m not scared.”

“It’s a fight to the death or until one of us surrenders.” Majtani points at Gon, “Don’t think I won’t kill you just because you’re a kid!” 

Gon shrugs. This guy doesn’t give him chills or makes his heart race in his chest. He’s not dangerous, not really, so there’s really no reason for Gon to worry. “I don’t think that.”

Majtani scowls. “Are you so eager to die?”

“I already told you that I wouldn’t die,” Gon says again, stretching his arms to warm the muscles and doing the same to his legs. “Are you ready to fight now?”

“Uh, yeah…” Majtani seems at a loss for words. “Wait! No weapons allowed.”

“I left my fishing rod back with Killua.” Gon bounces from foot to foot, impatient to get started. “Are you ready yet?”

A deep inhale and Majtani doubles over, his muscles twitching and growing larger under his skin. 

There’s a cocky smirk on his face. He looks confident in his victory.

“ _ Now _ we can start.”

* * *

 

**_3 HOURS GONE_ **

**_2 HOURS INSIDE TOWER_ **

**_69 HOURS LEFT_ **

**Clementine**

Video game logic, she thinks with no lack of amusement, really works.

The path she’s chosen is the one with the auras in it, the one on the right; and- from what she’s been able to gather- the actual path they were supposed to take. In the video games she’s played throughout the years, she’s learned that sometimes enemies spawn if the main character is headed in the right way. It was a gamble to use that kind of logic to determine which turn to take but it worked! Sure it was a fifty-fifty chance of picking the wrong path, but if Clem pushes that out of her mind, she can almost feel proud at the fact that she didn’t guide both her and Hisoka into certain death. 

The enemies that lunge out at them are dispatched with brutal efficiency. Clem’s knives slash through tendons in the blurred aura outlines of bodies she can see and slams the hilt of her daggers against temples hard enough for eyes roll back. Hisoka’s aura-  _ iron sweetness, sticky and cloying on her tongue- _ swells as the scent of blood grows stronger in the confines of the darkened hall. He lets her fight a few of the opponents on her own but when he makes a move, at last, he is merciless, cutting down enemies, snuffing out auras in a matter of seconds- leaving corpses behind in his wake.

She’s never really understood killing without a reason. Clem is the last person to judge someone for killing another human being, but she just doesn’t see the point in it when there’s nothing to be gained in doing so. 

“You know, the thought of getting stuck inside a tower in absolute darkness with serial killer never occurred to me,” Clementine comments mildly, carefully stepping over the bodies of the prisoners she knocked unconscious and trying not to fall over the corpses Hisoka has left strewn about. She squats beside the body of one of the men she knocked out and wipes her blades free of blood on the fabric of their shirt. She stands up again after all her knives are cleaned and waits for Numi to flutter up to her shoulder, which he can apparently see in the pitch dark, to hold on to once more. 

“A serial killer?” Hisoka repeats. His voice comes from ahead, a little further into the hallway than where she is at the moment. He doesn’t sound irritated or however it is that serial killers sound before they snap and murder people. Clem doesn’t think Hisoka is the kind of serial killer that gives much of a warning before he snaps and kills people though; in fact, she pretty sure that Hisoka doesn’t even need to _snap_ to kill people. Judging from her observations of the man that she’s gathered in the last 24 hours, Hisoka just kills for the hell of it, no snapping needed. 

“That’s such an unpleasant thing to call me, Clementine,” He whines, somehow still managing to make himself sound dignified instead of killing her for her- _ extremely accurate- _ comment, aura streaked through with a hint of mild offense. “I’d rather you choose a different term to refer to me as.” He adds as if being called a serial killer is the furthest thing from the truth and he cannot  _ believe  _ that she would have the audacity to apply the term to him.

“Yeah, I’m sure all serial killers don’t like being called serial killers.” She mutters, feeling a small amount of vindictive pleasure at sassing him back- although from her experience so far, that’s bound to come back to bite her in the ass. She’s only glad that even if nothing else does, that Hisoka’s aura will give her  _ some  _ warning if he decides to straight up murder her. Maybe she can use that short time before she dies lamenting her terrible luck and wishing she had actually gotten that tattoo she has always said she was going to get. 

“What else am I supposed to describe you as?” She asks sarcastically, catching up to Hisoka and sliding her knives back into their sheaths. She’s glad that she made the smart decision to not kill anyone, otherwise, she would be tripping over more corpses in the dark and that’s something her pride is begging her to not allow. There’s already a freaking minefield of bodies for her to avoid falling over. “A dashing gentleman dressed in pastel and high heels that sometimes has a penchant for murder? Or would you prefer something that doesn’t include the word murder?”

“You think I’m dashing?” That’s undeniably cockiness in his voice. He sounds pleased by her comment. “Oh Clementine, you flatterer, you.”

“ _ That’s  _ what you choose to focus on?”

“Of course,” Hisoka purrs and starts heading further down the hall. His footsteps bounce off the walls, again probably on purpose since he’s fully capable of making no sound at all when he moves. “When such  _ tantalizing  _ woman compliments me, I have no choice but to acknowledge it.” 

Clementine is glad for the darkness because she feels her face grow warm and is sure if it were visible, her cheeks would be flushed. She knows she’s not particularly hideous but it always embarrasses to hear anyone say otherwise, murderous magician or not. She knows it’s just another way for him to get under her skin and yet for some reason she’s still flustered at the fact a handsome man (yeah he’s a serial killer but she’s not  _ blind _ ) just paid her a compliment. 

“Anyway,” Clem says, desperate to change the subject into something that doesn’t force her to think about how Hisoka just called her  _ ‘tantalizing’;  _ even if that is kinda toeing the line of the weird fruit analogies he can’t seem to stop making. That’s something she’s going to avoiding dwelling on considering said man is most definitely a psychopath and a serial killer and associating with him for longer than necessary might not turn out too well for her- no matter how much meeting his eyes makes her blood race and how her nerves come alive when he’s around. 

She scowls and clears her throat. “Let’s just go.”

Clementine doesn’t think any of her friends are at any higher risk of death than she’s been in this entire trip with Hisoka- therefore it shouldn’t take them much longer finish up their portion of the exam, at least in theory. Although, she’s sure that if they share the same kind of luck she has- which is to say nearly none- that something will happen to interfere with their progress to the end of the Trick Tower.

It’s not like  _ they’re _ the ones that have been stuck with Hisoka for so long.

(Hopefully, they don’t die.)

* * *

 

**_3 HOURS GONE_ **

**_2 HOURS IN TOWER_ **

**_69 HOURS REMAINING_ **

**Gon**

The concrete crumbles beneath Majtani’s meaty fist. Shards of stone hurl outward and Gon raises his arms over his face and jumps back to avoid being struck by the projectiles. His feet land on the ground lightly and without waiting for his foe to make another move, Gon runs forward, blurring until he’s right in front of the blue-skinned man with a raised fist and bright grin. 

He swings his fist upward and just as he does, he sees fear flash across Majtani’s face. 

“Wai-” 

Gon’s uppercut lands with a brutal  _ crunch _ . 

Majtani’s eyes roll back and he collapses to the ground, leaving Gon staring at him with wide eyes and with his fist still raised. He walks closer after a whole minute has passed and Majtani hasn’t moved. His brow is furrowed in confusion and his mouth pressed into a frown of disappointment. 

“Gon?” Kurapika asks, bewilderment clear in his voice. “What’s going on?”

“I think he’s unconscious,” Gon says, prodding his opponent with his foot. “I didn’t think it would be that easy. But I guess he really didn’t seem that strong to begin with.”

“Wait, did he at least surrender before you knocked him out?” Killua questions.

Gon pauses. “It sounded like he was about to.”

“It’s not like that matters much now,” Killua scoffs and waves his hand dismissively. “Well then, just hurry up and kill him already.” Leorio makes a sound of distress at the Killua’s words and Kurapika grows slightly pale. Hanzo says nothing, the look in his eyes calculating and assessing- but not surprised at Killua’s suggestion.

“I don’t want to kill him if he lost his will to fight already,” Gon calls back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Attacking someone that’s already given up isn’t right.”

Killua rolls his eyes but mutters his assent with the acknowledgement that since it’s Gon’s fight, he has the right to make the decisions pertaining to his fallen foe. 

“I’ll just wait for him to wake up.” Gon says, plopping his body onto the floor and staring at Majtani’s unmoving form. “I’m sure it won’t take that long. I didn’t hit him  _ that _ hard.”

On his wrist, the clock continues counting down. 

“Are you sure he’s not dead?” Killua asks in curiosity once enough time has passed and Majtani shows no sign of waking. “He shouldn’t have been unconscious for this long.” 

When Gon turns to look at him, he sees Killua standing on his tiptoes, trying to get a better view of the blue-skinned man sprawled on the floor. Gon squats next to Majtani, cocking his head and staring at the body for a single quiet moment. His nostrils flare as he inhales deeply. 

There is the smell of sweat, sour and rank; a metallic odor, of something that isn’t blood but isn’t strong enough to be a weapon; and the mintiness of what might be mouthwash from earlier that day. There is no sickeningly sweet aroma of something dead, no pungent stench of muscles losing control over themselves to release the contents of their bowels. 

Gon’s not sure if the man is awake- but he’s positive that he isn’t dead.

“No,” He calls back to Killua, shaking his head, “He’s still alive.”

“This is taking too long!” Leorio shouts, gesturing wildly with his bandaged hands. “Let me go over there and I’ll take care of him for you.”

Gon shakes his head once more. “It’s okay Leorio. I want to wait for a bit longer.”

Leorio huffs but settles down. Majtani remains unmoving on the ground.

* * *

 

**_4 HOURS GONE_ **

**_3 HOURS IN TOWER_ **

**_68 HOURS REMAINING_ **

**Clementine**

Now, she knows that talking to the serial killer that has threatened her life before isn’t a very good idea but she isn’t particularly the best person at keeping her mouth shut. She’s so freaking _ bored _ .  They’ve been walking for god knows how long and it’s not like Hisoka has really taken the initiative to start a conversation. 

Honestly, for someone that seems to enjoy riling her up, he’s been oddly quiet this entire time. She kinda half expected him to interrogate her about what her aura was doing to attack him in the first room of the tower, or for him to bring up the fact that she keeps on letting slip things about ‘the taste of his aura’. If she was in his position she’d be curious to all hell about what a complete stranger knew about something as personal as her aura. 

She tries to think of topics to bring up before throwing caution to the wind and asking the first thing that pops into her mind. “How long do you think we’ve been wandering?”

There is the soft sound of rustling fabric and then the darkness is washed away by a light that, while dim, is enough to cast illumination on the features of Hisoka’s face. He peers into the origin of the glow in interest. 

It’s a phone screen. 

He’s seriously checking the time on his phone and the fact that it’s  _ Hisoka  _ doing this just makes the whole experience feels surreal. For some reason, the thought of Hisoka talking to people on the phone or even texting just feels weird.

“You have a phone?” She squawks in bewilderment.  _ Don’t you need to have friends to call people,  _ she almost asks, biting her tongue at the last moment so that she doesn’t get a card pressed against her throat again. She already wiped away the blood from earlier before it could dry on her skin, but it doesn’t change the fact that if she moves too quickly then her cut  _ burns  _ and starts weeping trails of blood down her neck once more. 

She’s not really fond of having her life threatened, so going against her nature and keeping her comments to herself is all she can do to avoid Hisoka’s bullshit once again. She’s pretty sure that Hisoka will manage to pester her into giving him her usual retorts eventually if only because of his infuriating comments have a tendency to ignite sarcasm into her very soul.

“Of course I do,” Hisoka says with a scoff, sounding mildly offended that she would think otherwise, “I’m not uncultured Clementine. I know how technology works.”

“I didn’t say that,” She sputters and waves her arms wildly even though the glow of the phone screen doesn’t extend to her at all. Numi shakes his head curiously at the sound and makes an inquiring chirp. She’s lucky that they haven’t hit any rough patch of floor yet, otherwise, she would trip on her face- especially considering that she’s walking, talking, and staring at the way the light of the phone cuts drastic shadows across the angles of Hisoka’s face. “I’m just surprised. It just doesn’t really fit into the mental image I have of you.”

“Oh?” Hisoka chuckles and his aura swirls lazily, the languid blink of an amused predator. In the light of the phone, his lips stretch into a pleased smirk. “We’ve known each other for such a short time and you already can’t get me out of your mind?”

Clementine lets out a frustrated growl.  “Stop putting words in my mouth, damn it!”

In the span of when the words leave her mouth and the second retort she doesn’t get the chance to make, Hisoka’s aura swells with mischievousness. The smile on his face is wicked. She can see it in the dim glow of the phone still in his hand. 

“Don’t be so silly Clementine,” He murmurs and leans in close suddenly, moving so fast that she doesn’t have time to reach as he grabs hold of her chin with one hand. “If I were to put  _ anything _ into your mouth-” He continues, tilting his face closer until there is only the space of a breath between their lips. The heat coming off his body makes her heart race in her chest, the press of aura against her tongue, the sharp edge of his long nail against the soft flesh of her chin; it makes her skin erupt into goosebumps. “-it wouldn’t be something as  _ boring _ as  _ words _ .”

“God, stop being so  _ creepy _ ,” Clem hisses as shoves him away with a fierce scowl. Clem is so freaking  _ tired _ of him getting all up in her damn face. “Have you ever heard of something called  _ personal space _ ?”

Hisoka’s aura hums with amusement. He places a hand over his heart and forces his lips into a somber line. “My apologies,” He simpers, “I just can’t help it when you react so  _ delightfully _ .”

Clem scoffs. “You think people calling you names is ‘ _ delightful’ _ ? I think you and I have completely different ideas of what the word means.”

She spins on her heel and marches off down the hallway, determined to not engage him in conversation if all he’s going to do is be a complete weirdo. Hisoka laughs and catches up with her in a few steps, humming a soft tune as they continue their way through the Trick Tower.

They stumble across a few traps- the ground giving way to deadly spikes underneath, gas filling small antechambers before they can enter the next room, prisoners lying in wait for the right moment to pounce. But at long last, they reach a part of the tower that glows with luminescent words scrawled across the walls. 

_ [Checkpoint just ahead. Congratulations on making it this far.] _

Checkpoint just ahead, her  _ ass _ , she thinks what feels like hours later, as they finally step into the checkpoint room that was  _ much _ farther than ‘just ahead’. 

The room has actual light to it. Torches line the stone walls and the firelight dances on where it is cast upon the ground. It’s wide and she expects to see more instructions but can’t find any. 

What she  _ does _ find is that in the room straight ahead, past the only other door beside the one she and Hisoka just stepped through- there is a presence waiting. 

And their aura buzzes in  _ hatred _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to tell me what you think about this chapter! See you next time! C:


	16. Clementine and the Third Phase (Part IV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author sets a new personal record for chapter length; Clementine just wants sleep and food- and the gang finishes their matches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is genuinely super late. It is also 12k words so I think I can be forgiven. 
> 
> I feel bad that this chapter got so long without fully getting where I wanted it but it's at a place in which I will get to Zevil Island next chapter. cx
> 
> Also keep in mind that if things seem messy in the chapters it's cuz I don't have a beta reader lol cx  
> So yeah, no beta, we die like men!
> 
> Ehem, anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. Though I can't promise when I'll write a chapter this huge again.

**_5 HOURS GONE_ **

**_4 HOURS INSIDE TOWER_ **

**_67 HOURS REMAINING_ **

**Clementine**

The aura sounds like the air whistling as a blade cuts through it, except only faintly, like a hollow impression. It buzzes in her senses, extending from it’s unseen owner and stretching out to murmur right against her ears. The hatred inside it makes her skin crawl. It makes her want to clamp her hands over her ears if only in the hopes that it will mute the horrid sound.

She doesn’t though. She knows that it will do nothing.

(Clementine tried, when she was younger- _back before she understood what she was feeling, what she was sensing_ \- to mute the auras she felt. She pressed palms against her ears and screamed in rooms that had the stereo turned up to the max volume, just to try to drown out the sounds. She swished her father’s cooking sherry around in her mouth to burn out the flavors on her tongue because it was the only thing that was strong enough to make the tastes stop, if only for a moment.

She learned to bite her nails all the way down so that she didn’t gore herself whenever she clawed at things that weren’t there as they brushed over her skin. She stole her mother’s perfume and drenched herself in the scent, in the hopes that the things that would press into her nose would be drowned out by the smell of something familiar, something that didn’t make her feel as if there were strangers wandering in her house along with her.

She would be unable to make colors stop _sticking_ to the back of her eyelids whenever she caught sight of _another_ person with _another_ color that made images bubble up from behind her closed eyes no matter how averted her gaze had been.)

There is no way that Clem knows to block out the auras she senses.

She has to bear with the unpleasant whistling of the aura that she senses ahead of her and Hisoka. She digs her nails into the palm of her hands and tries not to make it obvious that there is something unseen, something that a normal person shouldn’t be able to notice, causing her distress.

Oh, how Clementine loathes the sound of hatred.

How to explain how the emotion feels in an aura that is sensed through sound?

It’s the low clink of teeth grinding against teeth makes a jaw ache without being the one whose teeth are being pressed together. It’s hearing the screeching of nails on a chalkboard, having the hair on the back of one’s neck stand on end with and wanting nothing more than to make the sound _stop_ . It’s the roar of fury that goes unheard but that _screams_ inside the soul, under the skin, within the aura.

It’s a messy, discordant _churning_ that doesn’t sound like anything in particular- but that invokes a clear understanding of the emotion being felt, despite the aura sounding like something else in entirely.

 _That_ is what the buzzing aura waiting in the next room feels like.

 _That_ is what Clementine senses when she hears the sound of the unknown aura.

Clem plucks Numi off her shoulder and cuddles him to her chest. He puffs up in surprise but settles after a moment, making a small sound that fills her heart with warmth. His feathers are soft against her skin, tickling her chest above the cut of her tank top. She buries her face in the fur on his head, right between his furry little cat ears, and sighs. She clenches her arms around Numi tighter and tries to focus on the feeling of his tiny body breathing in her arms.

She swears she’s going to stab the guy who’s bombarding her with such an unpleasant sound. His aura isn’t even that strong, Clem could honestly force herself to ignore the buzzing sound- but in the silence, with all that hatred roiling within it, it’s calling to her senses like a beacon.

The door to the room ahead of them is made out of stone, same as the one they just passed through. There is a small camera watching from the corner of the room. The red light beside the lens blinks and as they move closer to the shut doorway a low rumbling begins. Clementine glares at it with irritation and resists the urge to stomp her foot like a child. The person behind that door is pissing her off. She hasn’t even met them yet but she swears that she’s going to stab them, maybe punch them in the face, for making her ears ring like this.

Her fingers twitch as Hisoka moves, his aura close to his skin and tasting sweet. Clem flicks her eyes away from the door slowly grinding open in front of her and to the man drawing closer, locking onto him from the corner of her eyes. He moves like a predator even without trying. It gives Clem the irrational urge to hiss at him as he steps closer, a small smirk on his lips and his yellow eyes bright.

It turns out she doesn’t have to. Numi takes note of Hisoka’s approach. His feathers puff up and his body stiffens in Clem’s arms. Numi swells up and lets out a sound, an ear grating mix of a screech and a yowl. It makes Clem’s body spasm with shock.

“It seems your little pet isn’t too fond of me.”

“You murdered his mother.” She explains, “I don’t think I would be very fond of you either.”

Hisoka runs his fingers through his hair and lets out a hum. “Oh, is that why? I admit I’m surprised that it recognizes me.” Here Hisoka’s eyes narrow and his smile sends chills down her spine, “I do wonder why I left it alive, I’m usually not so charitable.“

Hisoka’s aura sharpens dangerously.

“That sound is truly grating.” Hisoka’s aura surges and it crashes towards Numi, pressing down on the animal until he’s trembling violently in Clem’s arms and she can feel his heart pounding hard against his ribs. A high pitched shriek tears out of Numi’s throat and Clementine fears that his heart will give out from the terror he feels.

The unpleasant sound of the stranger’s aura is forgotten as Clem’s aura bursts out from under her skin, twisting around Numi until he’s cocooned within. She pushes back against Hisoka’s with a ferocity that is mirrored in the baring of her teeth. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“There’s no need to be so antagonistic, Clementine.” Hisoka laughs and looks delighted as her aura continues to shove back against his own, the pressure he exudes not lessing in the slightest. “I’m just trying to teach your little pet not to aggravate enemies stronger than itself.”

“How the hell is nearly giving him a heart attack with your aura going to do that!?”

Hisoka steps closer and stretches a hand out, running a finger along the feathers of Numi’s face. The cat-owl shudders violently in Clem’s arms but doesn’t dare hiss at the magician again.

“See? He knows his place now. He’ll live longer this way.”

“He’s just a baby!” She snaps back, holding Numi close and trying to soothe the terrified animal. “And stop doing that! He won’t calm down if you don’t stop!”

Hisoka obliges her request with a bright glint in his eyes. His smile couldn’t be more amused.

It takes a few minutes of Clem murmuring calming words to Numi and of Hisoka watching with brilliant yellow eyes, for Numi to stop shaking so badly.

Despite how pissed she is at Hisoka- her aura is sharpening at the edges and threatens to tear out from under her skin- she's glad that all he did was scare Numi. It irks her to think about the difference in strength between the two of them. There is a part of her that acknowledges the fact that there are few people that could possibly stand toe to toe with Hisoka without dying immediately but that does nothing to soothe the other part of her that _burns_ at the fact that she’s not one of them.

A breath hisses out from between her teeth and she forces herself to stop going back to the same thoughts. There is nothing she can do right now about her ability, about her strength. Training can come after she passes the Hunter Exams. Right now she is in the middle of the Third Phase, in a prison-turned-testing-ground with what feels like an enemy on the other side of the door in front of her.

Her anger is directed to something she can actually punch without losing either her life or her dignity- which happens to be the aura she hears from up ahead.

Clem’s eyes drift back to Hisoka once more.

His hair is still immaculately spiked, the bloody red almost overwhelming in comparison to the washed out greys and browns of the chamber they’re in. The soft pastels of his outfit brighten the dullness of the room around them. Clem kinda feels underdressed in her black tank-top and brown cargo pants especially in comparison to the blues, pinks, and yellows that the magician dons.  

Hisoka must notice her looking at him because he bows at the waist like he’s a gentleman and not a serial killer in heels, tilting his chin up to peer at her through thick crimson lashes. His eyes are the same toxic yellow, dizzying amber, brilliant citrine as always, but something about the way he’s looking at her makes her stomach flip.

“After you, my dear _Clementine_ ,” he purrs in a low tenor, flashing her a smile that has her straightening her spine at the sight; in addition to the violent shudder she does her best to hold back at the sound of his voice. Honestly, if this is the reaction she’s having to an asshole like Hisoka flirting with her, Clem wonders if it isn’t time to maybe get laid once she finishes these Exams. It _has_ to be the hormones fucking with her rational thought, nothing more.  

Clem swallows a few times, trying to get rid of the sudden dryness in her mouth. She was _so_ ready to throw down with the asshole giving her a headache with their aura- until Hisoka had the fucking _nerve_ to give her such a smoldering look and wrap his lips around the syllables of her name in such an obscene way.

“Don’t be so flirty,” she chokes out after a moment, the fingers clutching Numi close to her spasming uncontrollably, “You just attacked Numi with your aura. You don’t have the right to flirt.”

“Oh?” Hisoka raises a single brow. His smile widens at her words. “Well, _Clementine,_ I must apologize for that then.” His aura swirls around him in absolute delight. “I wouldn’t want to have you upset at me because my _aura_ frightened your little pet.”

Hisoka meets her eyes just as the word aura slips from his mouth and that’s when she knows- _breath locking in her chest, molten irises burning their way through her, struck with the realization that the predator has caught the scent of her blood-_ that she has let too much slip. 

* * *

 

**_5 HOURS GONE_ **

**_4 HOURS INSIDE TOWER_ **

**_67 HOURS REMAINING_ **

**Gon**

His legs are unmoving in the air above him, balancing his body as he walks lazy circles around the collapsed man. The ground under his hands is uneven and there are still small globs of candle wax splattered on the ground, a remnant of Leorio’s challenge with the candle guy from earlier.

“Are you ready to give up Gon?” Killua calls to him, upside-down in his own handstand across the room. “You must be tired of holding that position for so long.”

Gon turns his body to face his assassin friend and grins. They really haven’t at this for _that_ long. It’s just a small challenge that he suggested to ease to overwhelming _boredom_ of waiting for his opponent, who has been unconscious for quite a bit of time, to wake up. This isn’t even the first challenge Gon has come up, although since he and Killua are taking turns in deciding what to do they’re not anywhere close to running out of ideas.

“Ne, Killua, are you asking me that because you’re the one that’s tired?” Gon sings, doing a little wiggle on his hands and laughing at the offended look that crosses Killua’s face. His arms tremble faintly from the strain of holding his body up for so long but he ignores in favor teasing Killua.

“Of course not!” Killua says, turning his head away with a haughty little sniff, “I guess this is what I get for trying to be nice.” He huffs and sticks out his tongue at Gon. “There's no way you'll beat me at this, though.”

“How can you guys play around at a time like this?” Leorio complains, legs stretched out on the floor and back pressed against the wall. His hands are bandaged but that doesn’t stop him from crossing his arms in front of him and looking unimpressed at their actions.

“It’s not like we can do anything,” Killua says dryly, “Gon’s opponent is still knocked out.”

“It’s been hours!” Leorio shouts and scampers to his feet angrily. “We have to get a move on as soon as possible. We’re wasting time just sitting here doing nothing!”

Hanzo, who has been meditating while he waits, opens a single eye to peer at them curiously. Kurapika raises his head from where it was nestled in his arms and frowns at Leorio’s words.

Gon glances to the unmoving form of Majtani and pouts.

He wanted to test his strength against an actual opponent, not someone weak enough to be knocked out in one blow. Gon hadn’t even put all of his strength in that punch. He had just seen an opening and took it, sacrificing power for speed in order to actually land the hit. He just didn’t think that Majtani would be so easy to defeat, otherwise he wouldn’t have chosen to fight him and would have taken his chances with the next opponent.

“Wow, Leorio” Killua drawls, somehow managing to sound condescending despite the fact that he’s upside-down and he’s below eye level, “That’s a brilliant idea. How do you suggest we get out of this situation? Any plans? No? I didn’t think so.” Even from where Gon is he can see the vein throbbing almost violently at in Leorio’s temple.

“Actually,” Kurapika interrupts, standing from the corner of the hall he’s claimed as his own, “It is odd that our opponents haven’t mentioned anything about the next round or how to wrap this one up. It’s to their benefit that Gon’s opponent hasn’t woken up but there is the possibility that Majtani _has_ woken but is simply feigning otherwise.”

Now that Kurapika brings it up, Gon wants to examine his fallen foe more closely, something that is difficult to do while balance on one’s hands. “Killua, let’s have a time out!”

The other boy grins impishly, snapping out of the thoughtful expression Kurapika’s words had incited, “Oh? Are you giving up, Gon?” He does an odd little jiggle with his body, reminding Gon of the squigging worms he plucks from the damp soil on the days he goes fishing along the edge of the harbor.

He keeps it to himself though.

He doesn’t think Killua would appreciate being compared to a worm.

“Of course I’m not giving up,” Gon calls back with a pout, “I just want to see something.”

Killua snickers loudly, “That sounds like something a quitter would say.”

The Jurors on the other side of the central platform are quiet. They haven’t spoken since Gon had punched Majtani and even then it was only to clarify that the only way to win his match is to either kill or to make Majtani surrender his round. Gon can’t help but feel a little weirded out by the people still under the hoods, a number that has thankfully gone down until there are only two Jurors that wear the capes. He feels like they’re watching him from the shadows the hoods cast on their faces.

“I’m not quitting! It’s just,”  He frowns and moves closer to Majtani, “Leorio is right, we are wasting a lot of time waiting for him to wake up.”

He bites his lip anxiously. Maybe it would have been better if he had killed Majtani, he wouldn’t be slowing everyone down otherwise. Gon hasn’t ever killed anyone before, the closest he’s gotten is when he kills the fish he catches before taking them home for Aunt Mito to cook. He doesn’t want to kill a human being yet, he wants to avoid it as long as possible, even if he knows that killing people wouldn’t turn him into a bad person- just look at Killua! His entire family are assassins, himself included, and he hasn’t been anything but funny and nice to Gon since they’ve met.

“Don’t worry Gon,” Kurapika replies before Killua has a chance to. “I have an idea.” 

* * *

 

**_5 HOURS GONE_ **

**_4 HOURS INSIDE TOWER_ **

**_67 HOURS REMAINING_ **

**Clementine**

Her nerves are alight with electricity. She wants to run. But there is nowhere she can flee from this man and the flavor that is dripping from his aura onto her tongue. She takes a step back, eyes wide and unmoving from Hisoka’s own, from the predatory glint burning inside that citrine gaze.

It makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Her aura is just seeping out effortlessly, as if aware that she is trapped with a predator. It splits evenly, part of it burning hot in her veins, inside her skin- waiting for the right moment to attack, to defend, to do _anything._ The rest surrounds her and Numi like a bubble.

It is minute but Hisoka’s eyes grow a tiny bit wider as her aura spins like a whirlpool, spilling out of her skin like a tidal wave and flooding the chamber they’re in. He doesn’t seem bothered by the outburst of Clem’s aura, if only because he looks more delighted than anything.

“There’s no need for any of that, Clementine.” Hisoka murmurs, eyes flicking from the air above her head to meet her eyes. “What has you so bothered?” Here he blinks innocently, “Was it something I said?”

“You asshole-” She begins, anxiety churning heavily in her gut. There is no doubt that Hisoka can feel aura, _Nen_ . But something about the way he’s scanning the air around her- like he can actually _see_ what her aura is doing instead of just guessing- makes her hold her tongue.

“What are you looking at?”

Hisoka’s eyes curve upwards as his smile widens. His teeth are pearly and sharp. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m admiring the lovely display you’re putting on for me.”

“Huh?” She allows herself to feel confusion at his words. “What are you talking about?”

“No need to be shy, Clementine.” He watches her, ignoring what he has been staring at in interest over her head. A red brow climbs upward. The bewilderment must be clear on her face.

Hisoka blinks. Then, he lets out a shocked bark of laughter.

It’s a surprisingly pleasant sound.

“Oh Clementine, you don’t cease to surprise.” He presses a finger to his lips, although his grin peeks out from behind the single digit. “I suppose I'll just have to wait for you to figure it out on your own.” Hisoka turns away from her then, gliding over to the now open door. Darkness lies beyond the doorway like a starving animal, waiting to swallow them up the moment they leave the torch illuminated safety of the antechamber behind them.

“What the hell are you talking about?” She says flatly, as soon as she finds her voice once more.

Hisoka tosses her a smirk from over his shoulder but doesn’t answer her question.

Not that she’s surprised at all.

She thinks that she would be much more shocked if he _had_ given her a proper response.

Instead all he says is, “It’s no fun if I spoil the surprise.”

Clementine just stares at him blankly. She thinks she has whiplash from how fast the mood has shifted in Hisoka’s presence. She’s so tired of being on edge. She just wants to pass these damn exams, go out to celebrate with her new friends- plus Martha if she’s available- and maybe eat enough spaghetti to put her at risk of slipping into a coma. She’s sure her father would chastise her for such a blatant disrespect of food but he’s not here right now and Clem has had to deal with Hisoka for much longer than anyone can be expected to- so his opinion on her eating habits can go suck on an egg.

After spending so many hours bathed in the shadows within the Trick Tower, the sight of darkness doesn’t muster much emotion inside of her. Clem is just so tired of running into walls face first. Before this, the most time she spent without any lights was when she was trying to sleep or in the middle of absolute fucking nowhere after her parents dragged her along on one of their Hunts. At least in the wilderness, the expanse of stars overhead brighten the inky night; here Clem is lucky if she can take a breath that doesn’t taste like blood, gum, or musty dirt.

Now that she’s sure that Hisoka isn’t going to murder her, she slowly pulls her aura back, plucking it from the air to twine it around her body. The grinding buzz of the aura from before rises back up with a vengeance. The sound hadn’t been so loud only moment before.

Clem frowns. Could having her aura surrounding her earlier have affected the way she perceives the aura of others? Why is it only _now_ that she’s learning such helpful new things about herself?

She sighs and follows Hisoka when he steps through the doorway. She moves Numi from her arm back onto his previous perch on her shoulder, resting her hands on the knives strapped to her hips. She already knows that the person in the room ahead is going to fight them.

It would suck to die because she wasn’t prepared for a fight she already knows is coming.

“ _Hisoka._ ”

Aged fury and hatred swells inside the stranger’s aura as they speak. It makes the whistling sound distort around itself in a discordious screech. It's horribly unpleasant.

The fact that all that malice and loathing that she has been sensing is directed toward Hisoka in specific comes as a surprise. Although from the amount of time they’ve been trapped together, Clem can’t really judge someone for having a personal issue with Hisoka. She’s pretty sure that once they get out of here, she’s going to have an aversion to bubble-gum and playing cards- which really sucks since her literal job is to handle one of those on a daily basis.

The moment both of them fully enter the room, the door slides shut with a loud rumble.

Neither she or Hisoka are very surprised at this new development.

The owner of the voice sits on the ground just across the door with one knee drawn to his chin and the other crossed beneath him. She only catches a glimpse of him before the door behind them slides shut and leaves the three of them in the dark once again.

His hair is blackish-blue and spiky at the top, the rest dropping down beyond his shoulders and framing his face. His arms are corded with muscle. The skin that’s exposed on his arms are decorated in thick ropey scars. He doesn’t look familiar, not that she really expected him to be.

A long second passes with them all unmoving in the darkness.

As if prompted by her observation, candles burst into light, one by one. The candles themselves are a deep bloody red. They’re perched on the outermost edge of the staircase winding its way up the walls of the circular chamber, painstakingly arranged to only illuminate the room to a certain point. The shadows are long and dark, creeping up the chamber and stretching out below them in inky pools. On her shoulder Numi makes an inquiring sound, a soft trill, and cocks his head.

“Wow!” Clem exclaims in horribly-timed delight, bulldozing through the atmosphere of mystique that the man on the ground must have been aiming for with his little display. “They just lit themselves! How did you do that?” She feels the man’s aura throb with every candle that lights up, bringing a taste of smoke to her tongue that is so faint that she nearly misses it.

Does this mean the man is using his aura to light the candles? It’s a pretty neat trick, even if realistically it seems completely useless. _Unless_ his weapons have anything to do with fires. His aura doesn’t give her the impression of fire though, so she’s _pretty_ sure that the candle lighting trick is just that: a candle lighting trick. The flames are a sickly green, which might be a side-effect of being ignited by someone’s aura. Which again, is _super_ neat but really _useless._

The man sitting in the floor ignores her question; which honestly, she can’t really be offended at, since she would most likely do the same. She _did_ ruin his dramatic entrance, after all.

He keeps his chin tilted downward. The features of his face are drenched in shadows, unidentifiable in the murky lighting. He waits dramatically for a moment before he stands up slowly.

“I've waited so long for this-”  He raises his head suddenly, eyes hard and mouth stretched into a bitter sneer. There are scars on his face. Gnarled and thick, they cover both sides of his face in perfect symmetry. They warp the expressions he makes into something much more malevolent, scars twisting the sneer into a manic smile.

His hands reach behind him and in a movement she knows far too well, pulls out two blades from a holster on his waist. The knives are wickedly sharp, much like her own.

But while her blades are all straight edges and hard lines, with the occasional serrated edge; this man's knives look like a mix of both a _karambit_ and _jambiya_ \- and are all curl and curve, especially nearing the tip of the blades.

A part of her wants to examine them closer, to figure out if wielding them is much different than the knives she already owns. She doubts she’ll get the chance to though. If this man is anything like her- then he will be unwilling to part with his blades for long, especially since he’s in a bloodthirsty mood directed at her traveling companion.

“I'm not an examiner this year. I'm here for revenge.”  The man snarls, a crazed look in his eyes as he fully drinks in the sight of the magician standing before him. His attention is hyper focused on Hisoka. He doesn't even seem to notice her, which is kinda rude now that she thinks about it. “Since last year's exams all I've thought about is killing you.”

Besides her Hisoka looks almost bored, eyes half-lidded and aura not swelling with the bloodlust she's grown familiar with but instead flicking faintly in annoyance. His lips are no longer curled upwards though. They’re pressed into a straight line, no longer smiling like he was only moments before.

She shuffles a few steps away from Hisoka, twitching a bit when his eyes slide from the man to rest on her briefly. Clem gives him a sheepish smile and raises a hand in a small wave before pointing to a random spot to her left.“I’m just gonna give move over there and, you know, _away_ from the guy that wants to kill you.”

When she get to her chosen corner of the room, Clem plucks Numi from her shoulder and sets him on the ground behind her, using her body as a barrier between him and the others. She’s not having her precious baby get hurt because of some grudge-holding asshole, not when she’s positive that Hisoka will murder him for getting in his way and she’ll be able to stop any attack he makes toward Numi.

“I'll get vengeance for my scars today,” the man continues, as if completely disregarding anything that doesn’t have to do with giving his speech to Hisoka, who by the look on his face, couldn’t honestly care less. “I’m not the same man I was last time we fought and-”

“Okay wait,” Clem interrupts, stopping the man before he can finish monologuing or whatever it’s called when strange men start passionately talking about their backstories and nefarious plots, “Have you seriously been sitting here, in the absolute darkness, waiting for-” She jabs her thumb out at Hisoka, “-this guy?”

 _Finally_ , the man seems to pay attention to her.

“That _guy_ ,” he spits, “is a _murderer_.”

Clem stares at him blankly. “Well _duh_?” She glances between Hisoka and the man in bewilderment. “That’s like the most prominent aspect of his personality. It’s pretty hard to not notice.”

He does not seem pleased by her comment, although Hisoka lets out a small huff that almost sounds like a laugh. The man’s fingers spasm around the hilt of his curved knives and his eyes narrow into slits. “If you’re defending that _piece of trash_ ,” He hisses, “There must be something _wrong_ with you too. What, are you spreading your legs for this bastard or something?”

Clementine is taken aback by the venom in the man’s words- at the new note in the discordiant frequency of his aura that drips with absolute disdain for her very being. She says silent for a moment, not longer than a single beat of her heart, before she is filled with a blinding, overwhelming surge of _rage._

She stalks forward until she is past Hisoka- face to face to the man spewing insults he doesn’t understand. Her fingers wrap around her own blades, sliding them out of their sheaths with only a whisper of sound. He wants to be like that? She’ll be like that too.

“Even if I was,” She says, deceptively calm, contrary to the jagged cyclone of energy spinning inside her. “I don’t think would be any of your business.You know, it’s funny. You have a fucking big mouth for someone that’s gonna get his ass kicked.” Her aura sears the inside of her veins with the molten energy as it spreads throughout her body- hot with _fury_ , hot with _rage,_ hot with _anger._

It bubbles up out of her skin; a warning, a threat, a _promise_ , all at once.

“I won’t lose to _Hisoka_ ,” The man responds with a sneer, “Not this time.”

She laughs and it’s a sound of clear mockery, echoing loudly in the candlelit chamber.

She smiles and it’s more like a baring of teeth.

Hisoka is behind her.

His presence burns at her back like a wildfire, even with more than five feet between them.

His aura tastes like blood on her tongue.

“Who said I meant Hisoka?” Clementine says and lunges for his throat _._

* * *

 

**_5 HOURS GONE_ **

**_4 HOURS INSIDE TOWER_ **

**_67 HOURS REMAINING_ **

**Kurapika**

He shrugs off Clementine’s backpack, setting it on the ground besides Killua. He walks over the walkway, moving in quick steps to stand besides Gon and the unconscious Juror. He spares a glance at the blue-skinned man before raising his head to meet the eyes of the closest Juror, a bright magenta shade just visible under the shadows of their hood.

He is sure that Majtani is alive, Gon confirmed it with his supernaturally strong sense of smell. The fact that he hasn’t woken yet leaves Kurapika with two possibilities. One, Gon’s blow did more damage than it seemed and Majtani is incapable of waking up…

Or, Majtani has been awake the entire time but has been playing the card of unconscious opponent to stall for time. No matter what it may be, he’s left with no option but to agree to the match being offered to him. Losing any more time might put their chances of finishing this phase in peril.

“This match has dragged on for long enough,” He says, positive that they hear him even from this distance. “I propose we make a deal that to allow us to continue with the matches once more.”

“Oh?” The hooded figure purrs, leaning forward in interest at Kurapika’s words.

“Gon’s opponent isn’t dead,” He continues, “But he hasn’t surrendered yet either. The only way to finish that match is to wait for him to wake up, which is something that goes in your favor since your main goal is to stall us as much as possible.”

“If you know that the situation is to our advantage right now, why do you think I would agree to any deal you propose when it’ll just harm our chances of winning?”

Kurapika pauses as if thinking over the point brought up. He already has a response ready- but it’s best that their foes aren’t aware that they’re following the script that he thought up word-for-word.

“Because the deal I have in mind benefits you in the long run. We want to avoid killing anyone if we can,” here Kurapika glances back at Gon and Killua pointedly, “but keep in mind that we can just kill Majtani for the point if you disagree with the terms of our deal.”

The hooded person, stared at him, unblinkingly for a moment before flashing him a smile, visible only by the teeth they exposed by doing so. “Oh, I _like_ you, kid.” They cross their arms and tilt their head slightly, “Go ahead and tell me about this deal. You have me curious as to what it may be.”

“We’ll go ahead and give you the win for Gon’s match against Majtani but-” Kurapika raises a single finger, ignoring Leorio’s outraged screaming from behind him and Gon toppling forward in shock, “-the matches must continue without further interruption.”

Killua cheers from behind him, but Kurapika is sure it has more to do with Gon losing his balance first and losing their little competition. Hanzo, despite how vocal he has proven himself to be, is relatively quiet in comparison. Gon pouts but slinks back to join the others.

“I’ll only agree to that on one condition,” the person in the hood calls out to him, “The next match we play has to be a betting game.”

“A betting game?” He murmurs thoughtfully, raising a hand to his chin,“What are the rules?”

“We’ll be betting _time_.”

At that Kurapika’s gaze locks onto the Juror speaking. His lips press together in a thin line. Out of all the things to bet, time is the last one he wants to risk in a wager.

“We’ll each start with fifty hours each, and we keep on betting until one of us has no more time left. Bets can only be made in multiples of ten and we’ll take turns deciding on what to bet on. If these terms are agreeable, I’ll allow us to move on to this next match and call Majtani’s match to an end. Although, it will still be called as a loss for your side.”

Kurapika lets out a soft exhale and nods his head. “I agree to these terms.”

“Perfect,” The Juror purrs, stepping toward him. Their footsteps are nearly silent, bare feet gliding over the stone floor gracefully. They come to a stop in front of him and grin, “I’ll be your opponent for this round. My name is Leroute and I’ll be kind enough to let you make the first gamble as a measure of my goodwill.”

He thinks about what he can possibly gamble to gain him the edge in this match. His eyes drift around him, looking for anything that he can gamble on without much risk to himself. He catches sight of the man on the ground and something stands out to him. An idea formulates in his mind.

“I bet thirty hours that Majtani is just pretending to be unconscious.”

The hooded Juror cocks their head. “Are you sure that’s what you want to bet on?”

Perhaps if he was younger, or more hot-headed like Leorio and Clem, he would let the taunting note in the Juror’s voice rile him up- but as it is, he’s confident in his abilities, no matter how much the idea of gambling does not appeal to him.

“I’m positive.”

“In that case, I bet thirty hours that he’s actually unconscious.” His opponent doesn’t move, watching him with those oddly colored eyes. “How do you propose we prove is he’s really awake or asleep?”

Kurapika’s eyes dart around quickly, before he turns his head and settles his gaze on Leorio. “There is a doctor on our team that can confirm his state of consciousness.”

Leroute laughs, hood slipping off the slightest bit as their head is thrown back. Kurapika sees a flash of pink before they lowers their head once more, letting the hood flutter over the brightly colored hair once more. “You must think I’m an idiot. Why would I let someone on your team determine the outcome of this bet?” They place a hand on their hip. “Choose another way.”

That was the easiest way he could think of- but not the only one.

Kurapika sighs, staring down at Majtani before reaching down and hoisting him up by his arm. “Fine,” he walks forward, half-dragging, half-lifting the much taller man over to the side of the platform, “We’ll find out whether he’s awake or not by throwing him off the edge.”

Leroute freezes, a minute thing that anyone that wasn’t watching carefully would have missed, before raising their arms and shrugging. “And how will that tell us if he’s awake or not?”

Because no one wants to fall to their death, Kurapika almost says.

“If he’s awake he’ll stop me from dropping him and if he’s not then he’ll fall and die.”

The muscles of the arm he’s holding tense imperceptibly.

“Now, isn’t that a little harsh?” Leroute says, voice mild, “Killing him is a little _much_ isn’t it?”

Kurapika smiles bitterly. “Not at all. He’s the one that challenge a twelve-year-old boy to a deathmatch. I think this is just enough.”

“Damn,” Leorio mutters loudly from behind him, “Kurapika is pretty angry isn’t he?”

“He seems to be more protective than I anticipated.” Hanzo replies in an equally loud whisper.

Kurapika rolls his eyes at the banter. He knows that he can get vicious, usually on the behalf of other people ( _his desire for revenge isn’t just for himself, after all)_ but what he’s doing right now isn’t anything too extreme. He’s sure that Leorio, Hanzo, Clem, and possibly Killua would do the same- especially since the person that was threatened was the one that brought them all together.

It doesn’t take long for Kurapika to reach the edge of the platform, even with another body weighing him down. “I know you’re awake,” he murmurs, low enough that Leroute can’t hear him but that Majtani is able to, “Do you really want to risk your life for this?”

A muscle on Majtani’s cheek twitches.

Kurapika sighs, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He loosens his hands, before he lets go of Majtani.

“Ah wait! Wait!” Majtani screams, body twisting around, reaching a hand towards Kurapika in desperation. “I’m awake! I’m awake!”

Kurapika lets him flail for a moment. He takes Majtani’s hand, pulling him back to safety.

Majtani flies past him with a shriek. The numbers on Leroute’s side dwindle.

Kurapika gains her time on his own. _20-80_

“I win this bet.” Kurapika says, turning his head to look at Leroute, “It’s your-”

His breath catches in his throat. His eyes are locked on Majtani’s turned back as he gasps for breath on his hands and knees. On his back, imprinted in dark black ink, is a-

 _spidersPideRSpIDErSPIDErSPIDER_.

Majtani stands up. He’s sweating and spitting curses. He whirls around to glare at Kurapika, only to pause at the violent trembles that are spreading through Kurapika’s limbs.  

A bold smirk curls his lips upwards, “What’s wrong boy? You look pale.”

_“What’s wrong boy? You look pale.” The waiter asks him gruffly, thick brows furrowed in genuine concern. On the television, the news anchor continues to speak. In his hand, a glass of water trembles violently._

_“The bodies were discovered by a lost hiker, who was the first to uncover the massacre that had transpired. All 128 villagers were killed and there have been no reported survivors-”_

_“Where it say it happened?” He asks faintly, as if hearing himself from a distance._

_The waiter blinks and glances up at the television in confusion. “Oh that?” He taps his fingers on the table thoughtfully, “I think they said it was somewhere pretty remote.”_

_The hand holding the glass tightens, grip growing stronger until cracks form in the glass. With the other, a phone is hastily pulled out of a pocket, already flipped open and clicking on the first number in the contacts. No answer._

_He dials another, and another, and another but there is no answer._

_“Authorities report that the possible reason for the attack on the Kurta clan was for the Kurta’s scarlet eyes.” Glass shatters in his hand. Tears well up in his eyes, a brilliant bloody scarlet. “The eyes themselves command quite a hefty price on the black market, which may explain the brutality of all the kills.”_

Majtani straightens his once cowering figure, “Heh, so you saw it then? My tattoo, the symbol of the Phantom Troupe. The- ”

_-SPIDERSPIDERSPIDERSPIDERSPIDERSPIDER._

In his veins, Kurapika’s blood ignites. In his chest, his heart accelerates.

In his eyes, the gray is consumed by a brilliant scarlet.

His body moves before he can think about it. His fist crunches into Majtani’s face and sends the man hurtling back. Kurapika is in front of him before he can blink, oblivious to Leroute’s terrified shriek as Majtani lands next to them, or the clamor of voices that erupt from behind him. His hand slams into Majtani, wrapping his fingers around the man’s neck hard enough to bruise the skin.

Then Hanzo is there, clasping his wrist and prying his hand away from where is curled around Majtani’s throat.  “Kurapika,” the ninja says, mouth pressed into a firm line, “ _Stop_.”

“Hanzo,” he pants, eyes wide and gleaming a bloody red. “Get out of my way.”

“No.”

“ _Hanzo_ ,” Kurapika snarls, “ _Move.”_

Again Hanzo refuses.

“Get ahold of yourself. You’re above this.” His eyes seem darker than their usual brown. There’s something about him that’s different, dangerous. It makes Kurapika want to get as far away from him as possible.

“You don’t know anything about me,” Kurapika breathes, regaining his composure the more he maintains eye contact with Hanzo.

“No,” Hanzo concedes, “But I know enough.”

Kurapika closes his eyes and inhales.

Slowly, his hand opens and Majtani drops from his grasp, unconscious and wheezing.

“Have you calmed down?” At Kurapika’s nod, Hanzo turns his eyes, still darker in their intensity, and directs his gaze at Leroute. “I apologize for his reaction. Let us resume your match where it had left off.”

“T-There’s no need.” Leroute stutters, cloak held tightly in her hands, hood pulled back to reveal the face of a terrified woman.

“I forfeit.” 

* * *

 

**_5 HOURS GONE_ **

**_4 HOURS INSIDE TOWER_ **

**_67 HOURS REMAINING_ **

**Clementine**

The man’s eyes widen as she rushes toward him. He looks startled for a brief second before he gathers his composure and widens his stance to block her left arm swiping at his throat. In the instant before she can reach the soft flesh of his neck, he crosses his blades into an X, catching her blade along the edges of his own. The metal crashes against each other with a loud _clang_.

The man twists his arms, adjusts the grip on the hilt of his weapons in a subtle movement that Clem catches with ease. She bares her teeth at her foe and dislodges her knife from his, hopping away instead of giving him the chance to hook his curved knives around her own.

Her back burns as she moves too suddenly, pulling at the unhealed scrapes from the Second Phase. She tries to shove the pain to the back of her mind, to the same place that she’s forcing the aching in her shoulders from Hisoka’s brutal treatment earlier. Maybe if she ignores it, it’ll go away.

“It’s not polite to interfere with someone else’s fight, Clementine,” Hisoka calls from behind her, voice full of badly contained delight. He makes no move to stop her as she lunges toward his so-called foe though, so he must really not care enough about this man at all.

She’s sure that Hisoka is the type of man to kill anyone that gets in his way of a fight he wants. Clem is lucky that Hisoka is more amused by her actions than anything else. She can feel his eyes burn into her spine though, and the knowledge that she’s watching her fight someone makes a small thrill race through her veins. Clem wonders if she should go to the doctor after this is done. This isn’t a normal reaction to being under the scrutiny of such a dangerous man.

The fight is fast. The blades spark as they meet each other, grinding against each other with metallic shrieks that echo in the chamber. They duck and weave around each other’s blades with grace that can only come from years of handling them. Clem though, is only eighteen and while her experience with knives may be vast for someone her age- it doesn’t change the fact that the man she is fighting is a fully licensed Hunter that could be twice her age.

So it’s not a surprise that her opponent slips under her guard at least once.

He attacks with his left hand, similar to how she had at the start- and when she stops the forceful downward slash, his left hand darts out to stab at her kidney. The blade almost hits her, but she twist her body sideways, trying to curve around the weapon. Something that proves to be entirely successful. The only reason that her skin doesn’t slice open as the blade drags against the length of her abdomen is because her aura has been spread out over her body like a second skin.

Clementine gasps at the nearly deadly attack and tightens her hold on her blades.

Oh shit, that was too close.

Again they come together. Again they come apart.

Metal clangs and clangs, sparks flash over and over again.

Then, she lunges, breath coming heavy and previous injuries surging with burning pain.

This time, like the others, she is blocked once more- but this time, unlike before, she does something different.

Her blades twist and hook around his knives in the same way he almost did to her, except he’s not fast enough in his reaction to stop what she does next. She pulls his arms apart with her knives and they fly open without pause. While his weapons don’t fly out of his hands, in keeping his knives in his grasp he neglected to focus on keeping his arms in an x-block.

For a brief moment- in which her eyes lock with his widened ones- he is completely exposed to her attack. She pounces on the moment of weakness.

The blade sinks into the flesh of his shoulder, missing his artery by only inches. Although, she wasn’t aiming at his artery to begin with, just his shoulder. She’s not trying to _kill_ him, that’s Hisoka’s job. She’s just trying to beat the shit out of him for insulting her and maybe stab him a few times for the atrocious screech of his aura that has been drilling into her skull painfully.

 _“First blood,”_ she purrs and her aura echoes the sentiment.

God, adrenaline is a hell of a drug.

“You _bitch_!” The man roars, panting through the pain. The blood from his wounds drip to the ground, splattering across the stone like wax dripping from the rows of candles that line the staircase.

In his hands the blades begin to spin, twirling faster and faster until they’re nearly a blur. Clem hears the pitch of his aura change and it seems now like the sound is coming from the blades in his hands.

“Dual wielding?” Hisoka murmurs in a low voice. Clem wants to glare at him indignantly. She uses blades with both of her hands as well, she doesn't know why Hisoka has to say it like it’s so rare.

The man tosses the pair of knives into the air, his aura buzzing in a higher pitch now. It’s a desperate sound, manic. “I won’t lose-” He reaches behind him once more, pulling out another pair of curved blades and twirling them dexterously in his hands. “-Not until I kill _him_ first!”

Then, he throws the knives at Hisoka, missing her entirely and curving through the air to reach the magician. Yellow and red dance in the reflection of sharpened steel, the candlelight bouncing off the man’s spinning blades and shining brightly.

“Infinite quad wielding!” He shouts. He looks manic as he catches the pair of knives he threw in the air, baring his teeth and completely disregarding the injury in his shoulder.

Hisoka jumps and _twists_ his body between the spinning blades. From behind him, the pair of blades curve through the air in a way that Clementine has never seen before. They hurdle straight towards Hisoka’s unprotected back. His eyes meet hers and he must see the horror as the blades blur closer to him because he reacts to the attack despite not seeing it’s approach.

His eyes don’t drop away from hers as he pushes off the ground with his hands, bending his body to avoid a direct attack. Despite his actions, his side is still slashed open.

If Clem wasn’t trying to kick this guy’s ass, she would stop to admire the skill it takes to make a knife spin through the air like that. _But_ , since she is and also not very eager to die- she raises her knives to block a swipe the man makes at her with the pair of knives that he plucks out of the air.

They’re still splattered with Hisoka’s blood.

“You have nowhere to run, either of you!” The man shouts, “You'll both be cut to pieces by my endless stream of blades! It’s impossible to dodge them all!”

Hisoka is weightless as he dodges the attacks. Clem’s mouth drops open as he jumps and _twists_ his body sideways midair, letting both blades pass by harmlessly from both above and below simultaneously. How is he so good at that? She wonders blankly, barely avoiding an attack in her distraction.

Although, it’s hard not to get distracted by the graceful way Hisoka moves.

He ducks from side to side, up and down, the flying blades not touching him beyond that single injury. Hisoka leans back, the tips of his hair almost brushing the ground as he dips down parallel to it. Blood drips to the floor. His back touches the floor for what feels like an instant before he uses the momentum to push and twist himself into a one handed handstand. He whirls his body around the blades cutting wildly through the air and hops back to his feet gracefully.

She cries out when one of the blades thrown at her cuts into her right side. It flies back into the man’s outstretched hand. Clem presses a hand to the wound, whining through her nose at the wetness spreading from the injury and forcing herself to focus instead on the other approaching blade.

She raises a knife to swipe at the ones gliding through the air. It’s hard to stop the momentum of the curved weapon and her injury burns with hot-white pain as she pushes against the force. It’s made much harder by the fact that she’s only using a single arm. But she clenches her teeth hard; pants heavily, widening her stance, locking her arms and _pushing_ forward with a knife coated in her aura until the attacking weapon is stopped in its place.

It drops to the stone underfoot with a loud clang.

All the while, blood drips out from between her fingers to the ground below.

From behind her, Hisoka’s aura explodes outward. It drips, almost sticky from his pores and clings to the roof of her mouth with sweetness and iron. The predator from earlier rises from under the lining of his pale skin and bares its teeth. It opens its vibrant yellow eyes and _snarls_ from inside his aura.  

“It would be difficult to dodge your attacks indeed,” Hisoka says, eyes narrowed and mouth slanted into a straight line. Then, his lips curl upwards, a viciously sharp smile cutting across face. In his hands, the hilts held firmly in his grip, are two knives, caught midspin, midair, as they hurdled in his direction. His lips part and Hisoka’s tongue flits out to lick at the edge of the blade; at the blood smeared across the steel. “Therefore, I should just stop the blades.”

“That was easier than I anticipated.” Hisoka laughs, coldly, “You didn't improve at all in a year, did you?” He twirls the blades in his hands, the silver blurring into one mass as his fingers spin them faster than her eyes can discern. “It’s not surprising considering you got those scars as proof of your inadequacy.”

How the _hell_ had he caught that?

It was all that she could do to knock two of the knives out of the air.

Sweat drips from the man's forehead, beading on his upper lip as he stares at Hisoka in horrified realization. His hands instinctively tighten around the lone blade in his hand, a habit born of years using the same weapons.

Clem can’t help but pity him when his eyes widen and his pupils shrink into tiny pinpricks of black. _Ah,_ Clem thinks, _he can see that he's going to die._

“Perhaps in the next life you will learn not to damage toys that aren’t yours,” Hisoka drawls and the smile on his face is one that death himself must don. He looks more terrifying in that moment than she has ever seen him before; like a fallen angel drenched in blood and revelling in death, like the predator she has always sensed but has only seen emerge a handful of times.

He moves forward in the next second, a graceful blur of red and soft pastel.

There is a spurt of blood, scent of fresh iron flooding the air, the gurgled scream of the man as he dies; and finally, the decapitated head dropping to the ground with a soft _thud._ His aura fall silent and for the first time since they’ve drawn closer to this room Clementine’s ears are free of the oppressive sound.

Then, the candles go out. 

* * *

 

**_5 HOURS GONE_ **

**_4 HOURS INSIDE TOWER_ **

**_67 HOURS REMAINING_ **

**Killua**

The hair on the back of his nape stand on end. He didn’t even see Hanzo move from his side.

The ninja is holding Kurapika back, speaking to him in a low voice. The others speak in concerned voices besides him but his eyes are locked on the ninja.

Gon interrupts his thoughts. “Oh wow, Kurapika is pretty strong huh?”

“Hanzo more a danger than him,” Killua says, eyes narrowed and unmoving from duo. Killua’s skin itches. He feels on edge.

His palms are sweating and his heart is racing in his chest. This is kind of how he feels when he’s near Illumi, short of breath and wanting nothing more than to flee.

“I didn’t think he was serious about being a ninja,” Leorio exclaims in shock.

“I think it’s pretty cool,” Gon admits, smiling brightly.

The amount of time Hanzo and Kurapika speak is brief. But just as quickly as it had started, Kurapika’s rage cools and he drops Majtani to the ground. Out of all them, Leorio is the one he would have pegged for exploding into a violent rage- but he guesses it makes sense that Kurapika is the one it turns out to be.

The blond boy is too composed for it to be natural.

“I forfeit,” The pink haired girl declares to the entirety of the room, dropping her hood and nervously eying the men in front of her. “I don’t want anything to do with either of you freaks.”

Her words are rude but the message is clear. Kurapika has won his match.

The odd feeling that he was getting from Hanzo dissipates and together, the ninja and Kurapika walk back to their side of the room. The ninja is praising Kurapika for his victory and for getting himself back in control of his earlier outburst; while Kurapika looks conflicted.

The exams haven’t been very difficult so far, but so far he’s been pretty entertained by Gon and the other people he’s met so far. Truthfully, Killua hadn’t expected to see another kid his age at the Exams, which is part of the reason he decided to talk to Gon in the first place. He thought that the Hunter Exams would at least make him break a sweat but it seems as if the only interesting part of them is the boy his age and the boy’s weird friends.

Killua shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts and scowls at the smile Gon sends his way, as if he can read Killua’s mind. God, why is Gon so mushy even when he doesn’t talk?

“I guess it comes down to me,” He says, walking toward the walkway but making sure to keep a few feet between Hanzo and himself.

At his words, Leorio’s face scrunches up in horror. “Oh no! I should have won my match so that it wouldn’t come to this.” Killua’s eye twitches.

“Oi, what is that supposed to mean, old man!?”

Across the room, the last Juror stands from his place on the ground, handcuffs dropping to the ground with a heavy clank that can be heard from the other side of the room. The hooded prisoner takes a few steps forward. The other prisoners recoil at his approach.

Kurapika’s enemy, the pink haired woman, flinches particularly hard.

The hooded Juror shoves one hand into the wall and scrapes a deep furrow into the wall as he walks forward. It’s a clear power move- meant to intimidate both his opponent and his allies. But Killua is the opposite of frightened. He’s excited. He’s eager to fight.

The hood comes off and under it is a plain looking man with a thick mustache, equally thick eyebrows, and blond hair. At the sight of the man’s face, Leorio gasps in realization.

“We should take the loss,” He says seriously, “That man is the worst serial killer in Zaban City’s history. He doesn’t care who he kills, whether they’re men, woman, old, or child. You don’t have to face him, there’s always next-”

Killua is already halfway across the walkway, whistling merrily, hands still in his pockets.

Maybe this will give him the challenge he was looking for when he entered these exams.

“Wait Killua! Don’t fight him! ” Leorio shouts and reaches out, gripping nothing but air as he moves out of reach.

He stops a few feet away from where Kurapika and Hanzo left Majtani’s unconscious body once more and tilts his head to examine his foe more thoroughly. He’s nothing impressive, though he does have a look of hunger in his eyes as he stares at Killua. It’s pretty amusing to see that look on someone’s face, as if they think that they’re strong enough to land a single blow on him- much less that they’re capable of making him bleed.

“So how are we settling this match?” Killa asks, hands buried in his pockets and cocking his head to the side. Across from him, his opponent’s fingers twitch.

“This isn’t a match,” He says, voice emotionless and believing every word he says, “This is a one-sided massacre. I don’t care about these exams or the amnesty being offered. I just want to hear you scream in terror as I tear you apart.”

Killua almost laughs. As it is his lips twitch the slightest bit.

The idea of such a sloppy killer being the thing to end his life is comical. It would be a horrible irony, that after all the torture his family has put him through- _all the days hung in the darkness of the isolation room, all the whispered ‘this is for your own good Killua’ before the currents of electricity met his skin-_ that after all that, it would be someone so insignificant that would kill him. As if he was weak enough for such a man to put a single scratch on him.

The mere thought is ridiculous.

Killua blinks, “Oh so a death match? That’s okay.”

He narrows his eyes and takes a single, silent step forward, a blur to most that are watching him.

Johness still has a single hand outstretched, slowly spinning to face Killua as his other hand comes up to press against a tiny red stain is visible through his shirt, just over his heart. There is a steady pounding in his hand, growing weaker as the seconds tick by.

“What the hell,” Leorio whispers, sounding fainter than he’s ever heard him be.

“Oh,” Gon says, “That’s right. You guys didn't know, Killua comes from a family of assassins.”

“What did you do?” Johness rasps, body trembling and jerking as it starts to fail. His eyes widen and lock onto the organ in Killua’s hand. “That’s mine. Give it back.”

Killua smiles and doesn’t blink as Johness stumbles forward, confused muttering flowing from his tongue as he grows paler and paler. The man’s eyes are growing murky, that cold blue dimming into a grayer shade. He holds out the heart, just out of reach of the blond serial killer, before he crushes the bloody organ into a messy pulp.

He drops the remains onto the ground just as Johness collapses, smile not wavering as the man gasps his final breath and dies.

“Well that was kinda boring.” 

* * *

 

**_6 HOURS GONE_ **

**_5 HOURS INSIDE TOWER_ **

**_66 HOURS REMAINING_ **

**Clementine**

Hisoka walks into the room before her. His wide shoulders, or maybe that’s just the poofy fabric from his shirt, fill the door frame so that his silhouette is the only thing she can see with the light that streams from the room. After so long in near darkness, the exception being the grudge-match that had the most illumination out of this entire phase; the light coming from the room up ahead burns her eyes.

From the intercom system that runs through every corner of this prison, this labyrinth, comes the disembodied voice of a man, “First arrival, Number 44 has completed the Trick Tower in 6 hours and fifteen minutes.”

Clementine squints at the bright light ahead. The gash on her side aches.

She’s finally made it to the end. What else awaits her beyond this final room? What else will this exam throw her way? She allows herself a moment to take a deep breath before she follows Hisoka’s lead and steps through the doorway. Numi’s weight is a comforting one on her shoulder.

“Second arrival, Number 295 has completed the Trick Tower in 6 hours and sixteen minutes,” the same man from earlier says, adding after a moment, “The Third Phase will be concluded when the original 72 hours are up. Until then feel free to use this time to recuperate.”

“Thank _god,_ ” Clementine groans as she trudges to a corner she’s been eyeballing since she entered the room and sinks to the ground with a pained sigh. At least her wound has stopped bleeding so badly, she was starting to get really lightheaded. Numi fluffs his feathers with a soft chirp that Clem takes as an agreement. “I was getting so tired of running into walls facefirst.”

“Although, it was entertaining to listen to,” Hisoka says, not turning to look at her from where he’s examining the spacious room with sharp eyes. All she’s noticed is that there are doorways all around the circular chamber, something she’s sure he’s already taken note of. He’s probably noticed things in the short minute he’s been looking that she wouldn’t have noticed even if she put all her effort into it.

There’s something about people like Hisoka- _about predators dressed in human skin-_ she knows will be beyond her understanding. The undercurrent of danger that buzzes in their auras, the way their muscles roll under their skin as if always prepared to pounce, the way they can see things in moments that would take hours for anyone else to notice; it’s just something that will forever fill Clem with questions she’s not sure she’ll ever have the answers for.

(She can’t help but wonder if she’ll ever be able to become that dangerous one day as well.)

Clem feels her eyebrow twitch at his comment. “ _Yeah,_ I know. I could hear you laughing at me a few times.” Hisoka smiles but doesn’t say anything else in response. It’s not like she’s exaggerating either.

She _did_ hear him snickering.

Hisoka’s heels click against the concrete floor as he walks to his chosen spot. She wants to say something snarky about how he only lets his shoes make sound to be dramatic but she’s tired and doesn’t want to deal with what the repercussions of saying something like that may be.

She has enough bruises courtesy of Hisoka. She honestly has no desire to add on to that already _ridiculously_ huge amount. Plus, she’s lost a decent amount of blood in that fight earlier. It’s a miracle that she hasn’t lost consciousness or anything; just like it’s a miracle that the attack that had hit her had missed anything vital.

Hisoka settles onto the floor with a chuckle and pulls a deck of cards out of his pants pocket. Clementine didn’t realize he even _had_ pockets in the first place, much less enough pocket space to hide away all the decks of playing cards she’s seen him whip out. He had a phone and a radio at some point too, so those must be somewhere in the black hole pockets of his baggy pants. She’s kinda jealous. She didn’t think to pack much into the pockets of her cargo pants, so now that her backpack is gone, she’s stuck with what little she had on her person. Which isn’t really that much.

“Clementine,” Hisoka beckons her closer with a curl of his fingers. “Come here.”

What the hell?

Does he think she’s going to go to him when he’s calling her over like some sort of pet? His smile widens at the look of offense she’s positive must be on her face at the moment. Clementine wishes she had the energy to throw the candle stub in her pocket at Hisoka’s smirking face.

“Use your words Hisoka,” She grits out. She’s not going to try to punch him or anything, but imagining she’s going to makes her feel a hell of a lot better. “If you need something spit it out.”

The magician’s lips pucker into a small pout which, again, should really look gross on a grown man but somehow ends up  _not_ . Still, having Hisoka- of all people- make that face at her makes her shiver at how _off_ it is in comparison to the smirks and sharp smiles that usually grace his features.

“Don’t be so mean,” He whines, eyes as vibrant as ever and unmoving from her own. “You might just hurt my feelings.”

Clem snorts. “Oh please, spare me the dramatics. I doubt I could ever hurt _your_ feelings. What do you really want to say?”

Hisoka tosses the deck of cards back and forth between his palms. “Would you care for a game of cards?” He asks her, discarding the mask of the injured party and slipping back into the suave jester that she’s grown accustomed to. “I’ll even be as kind as to teach you the rules if you don’t know how to play.”

“Maybe later,” She says, feeling overwhelming amusement that Hisoka is suggesting that she needs to be taught how to play cards- especially considering she works as a card dealer in a casino. “I’m tired.”

She ignores Hisoka’s exaggerated sound of disappointment.

Numi cuddles onto her chest with a low mewl, nestling right against her ribcage, just beside her heart. Clementine focuses on his warmth against her and feels her body to relax against him. She’s not sleeping here, not with Hisoka so close to her and with other competitors on the way; but she’s not against resting her eyes just for a moment- 

* * *

 

**_12 HOURS GONE_ **

**_60 HOURS REMAINING_ **

**Clementine**

-her eyes snap open and she’s on her feet in a flash. The wound at her side throbs with a wave of pain that makes a strangled sound tear out of her throat, but the knife she has drawn remains steady in her palm. At her fast movement, Numi has taken to the air with a screech, fluttering upward and upward until he finds a crevice to tuck himself into near the ceiling.

The hollow ringing that had woken her approaches the chamber.

It comes from the wall right beside her and at this, she swiftly moves away from it, closer to where Hisoka has cracked open his eyes to peer at her from where he reclines against the wall. Hisoka isn’t any safer than the person approaching- _the rattling of metal tapping against each other except echoey, cavernous; the single ring of a bell chiming in the empty night, an omen, a sound that needles the eardrums with a sense of heavy dread-_ but at least she knows that he doesn’t want to kill her just yet.

She’s felt this aura before but back then it had been muted by the clamoring auras of everyone around them. Clem hadn’t known that it sounded so potent until this very moment. She hadn’t known that something could sound so terrifyingly vacant until this moment. Until now, she hadn’t known that it was equally as terrifying to not sense anything besides the nature of someone’s aura and nothing more. Her aura doesn’t escape, it sticks close, right underneath her skin with nervous energy.

“Is something the matter Clementine?” Hisoka asks, looking interested but not the slightest bit concerned. She doesn’t have the chance to reply before the door slides open and Gittarackur walks in, head twitching to the side and smile stretched across his face.

“Third arrival, Number 301 has completed the Trick Tower in 12 hours and two minutes.”

Gittarackur’s smile doesn’t shift on his face as he glances between her and Hisoka, zeroing in on the blood staining the pastel blue of Hisoka’s shirt. He doesn’t comment on it though, instead ignoring her- something that makes her nerves settle the slightest bit- and speaking to Hisoka in an oddly robotic voice. “I expected you to be here. Glad to see I wasn’t mistaken.”

He says nothing more and Hisoka inclines his head with a grin at the words.

Gittarackur’s body rattles as he walks to a spot a decent distance away from her and Hisoka. The light of the lamps shine over the head of the needles all over his body and while Clem would like to observe further, she glances up at Gittarackur’s face to see him staring at her with dark, dark eyes and her heart stutters in her chest. The smile doesn’t move and neither do his eyes.

Clementine is the one that looks away first, cowed by this strange man and the sound his aura exudes. She walks a little closer to Hisoka- until there are only a few feet between the two of them and carefully sits on the ground once again. She ignores the amused twitch in his aura, the echo of the same feeling in Gittarackur’s own; and dares not fall asleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So please validate me in the comments below and let me know what you think!  
> Also, if you want to ask me some questions or stalk me on Tumblr, just hit me up at: 
> 
> Mortesangriz.tumblr.com
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. See you next time!


	17. Clementine and the Fourth Phase (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author apologizes for the extremely late chapter; Clem is bored out of her mind- and numbers are drawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, I know this is freakishly late. It's not long enough to excuse the lateness either; I'm just having a few personal issues right now and couldn't write. I'm sorry if this chapter isn't as good as the others but it's either this or waiting longer to post.   
> I don't want to disappoint any of you but writing is really hard right now. I'm not sure when I'll be able to update on time again- but hopefully, I'll have a chapter out by the end of this month, if not, by the beginning of the next. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**_9 HOURS GONE_ **

**_8 HOURS INSIDE TOWER_ **

**_63 HOURS REMAINING_ **

 

“I can't believe we listened to you Leorio,” Killua’s hands are scrubbing at his face but only smearing the dirt across his cheek. There's grime on all of them, though it's most noticeable on him- the sooty residue sullying the snowiness of his natural hair, making it look more of a dirty gray.  He looks as if he's never heard of the word ‘cleanliness’ before. 

Leorio visibly bristles. “How was I supposed to know that going that way would end up the way it did? Plus you weren't complaining when it got us away from that giant boulder either, so I don't want to hear it!”

After climbing a flight of stairs that somehow led them to a thirty-foot drop; trudging back down only to realize that they had somehow all missed a narrow hallway going  _ through _ the base of the stairs; and ending up trying to outrun a massive boulder that looked as if it barely even  _ fit _ in the building- the fact that the only mark on them is the filth from these dirty halls is kind of a miracle.

From beside Killua, Gon turns to look at them with a bright grin, “Ne, Kurapika, how do you think they fit the boulder in here? Do you think the boulder came first and then the room, or if the boulder was brought in afterward?”

“The boulder was-” Kurapika grimaces, shaking his head at the memory, “-unexpected and unpleasant. I’m not sure how it was brought into this part of the tower without getting stuck in some of the narrower halls, but it seems more likely than building an entire tower around a single boulder.”

Hanzo laughs. “It would be amusing if the tower had been built around the boulder though, don’t you think?” His steps are silent, a ghost on his feet like Killua just ahead. He looks at ease, hands locked behind his head despite the sharp glint in his eyes. 

He’s keeping an eye for anything out of place, something that comes incredibly helpful when he stops Leorio from stepping into a pit trap lined with pointed barbs on the bottom. Said man looks utterly bewildered, casting his gaze between the ninja’s hand wrapped around his bicep and the gaping hole in the floor. 

Leorio pales and audibly gulps, “Erm, thanks bud.” It takes a while for the wariness to dissipate, although, even after the mood has passed, everyone is more careful where they place their feet. 

Gon fills the silence of the empty halls with something besides the sound of footsteps, chattering about the island he’s from and the funny things he’s seen tourists do as they pass through town. 

“-then, she was like  _ ‘Where are all the whales?’ _ and Aunt Mito had to explain to her that it’s called Whale Island because it looks like a whale, not because there are whales nearby!” Gon laughs at his retelling of the story, the sound joined by a snort from Killua and a chuckle from the rest of them. 

“That story sucks,” Killua declares, despite his obvious snickering, “Let me tell you something that’s  _ actually _ funny. So once, I met this guy that thought I was his cousin that he hadn’t seen in years and man, was it super awkward, especially since I was supposed to kill his  _ actual  _ cousin-”

Time slowly ticks down on their wristwatches, counting down the seconds and minutes and hours that pass them by. Besides the pit trap, there is a distinct lack of danger- whether that’s due to everyone’s hypervigilance or sheer luck has yet to be determined. 

Eventually, they stand before a heavy steel door. On it are twin screens describing the instructions necessary to open the door; which is the same as the rest of the decision-making has been this entire trial, pressing on buttons as the majority chooses. 

“Are we close to the end now?” Leorio groans, stretching his arms over his head until his shoulders make a soft  _ pop _ , “I’m tired of this damn tower and all these stupid choices. We’ve barely had any time to rest.”

“This door looks pretty promising,” Hanzo declares, nodding his head sagely, “We haven’t run into one like this since the beginning so we might be closer to the end than we might think.”

“I can’t wait to see the next part of the exams,” Gon bounces in place, smile wide and bright, “That means that we’ll see Clem soon too!”

Kurapika shifts at the words, the sight of their missing companion’s bag suddenly all the more noticeable on his shoulders. “If all goes well then,” A pause, the air filled with the unspoken understanding of  _ ‘if she’s still alive’ _ , “Hopefully Clementine will be at the finish line too.” 

There is a beeping sound and a single tally appears on one of the screens. Eyes raise, peering at each other in befuddlement. Killua’s finger is still pressed against the button on his wristwatch. 

He rolls his eyes when he notices them looking, “What? Do you need more time to be sad and annoying?” His cheeks slightly flush, “Your confidence needs some work. You can worry when we actually finish this phase and see whether she’s dead or not. Right now it’s just wasting our time.”

“Damn,” Leorio breathes, brushing his fingers through his hair, “I hate to say that Killua is right but-” His face scrunches up in distaste, “Yeah, nope. I’m not going to say it-” his finger pushes a button on the wristwatch, “-but I’m sure you all get the point.”

Kurapika’s mouth twitches into a faint smile and he clicks the button on his watch as well, “I suppose we should get going then.” His actions are mirrored by Hanzo and Gon, both of which make sounds of approval as a mechanism within the door clangs- before it slides open with a hiss of air. 

Killua is the first one in, footsteps silent and hands shoved deep into his pockets. He lets out an impressed whistle, taking in the vast array of weaponry lining the stone walls. Inside his pockets, Killua’s fingers twitch at the sight of chains on one of the walls. They hang down in sets of twos, manacles unlocked and ready to clamp around the wrists of whoever is placed within. He has to shake his head to remove the phantom image of Illumi standing beside them, watching him with those empty eyes of his. 

Carved from stone, directly into the wall, the statue of a woman gazes out at them. There is a spiked crown on her head. Each spike is wickedly long and sharp. Under each of the statue’s outstretched arms is a metal door, an X, and O on them respectively.

“Oh wow!” Gon exclaims, eyes glinting with excitement as they flick from weapon to weapon mounted on the walls, “This is so cool! What do you think they’re here for?”

Hanzo steps close to the wall, peering curiously at the weapons. There are some things here that he’s never seen before, combinations of wood and metals twisted together to form something dangerous. He brightens as he nears a corner of the room, “This is impressive! They even have things from Jappon here!” He holds up a flat piece of metal with four pointed ends and a hole in the center, flicking his wrist to show another three identical weapons underneath. 

“Hey everyone, look at this,” He says, grinning, before moving his hand so fast that it blurs and throwing the metal weapons. It’s over in a blink and a metallic screech. The four projectiles are buried deeply into the stone across from him, cracks blooming from where they’ve sunken more than halfway into the tower wall. “They’re a  _ shinobi _ weapon called shuriken. Pretty neat huh?”

Gon is starstruck. “That was so cool, Hanzo!” Killua looks relatively impressed as well, though he tries to play off his interest by looking at the others, glancing back at the weapons embedded in the stone when he thinks no one is looking. 

“What… How in the…” Leorio’s mouth hangs open. He stomps over to the wall and stares at the crumbling brick in bewilderment. “Holy shit, Hanzo!”

“That was certainly impressive,” Kurapika manages after a moment of shock, “Uh, you say that they’re weapons native to your country?”

Hanzo nods brightly. “Jappon is the creator of a great deal of weaponry! The variety of weapons available is astounding and there is certainly is a weapon that is right for everyone, no matter how specific they need their weapon to be made. This comes in handy when-”

“Welcome examinees,” a voice interrupts from a speaker directly inside of the statue’s mouth, “You have done well to make it this far and are very close to the end.”

“Almost there,” Leorio groans, “Ugh, I can’t wait to get out of this tower!”

“Now,” the voice continues, “You have two final choices in order to continue on; two routes that will both lead to your final destination. Except there is a catch-” The words makes them all tense, scanning the doors as if they will reveal the secrets behind them at a glance, “-the first door allows 5 people to pass through it but it is long and difficult. The second will only allow three people through it but the path it leads through is short and easy. With the first door, it is impossible to reach the exit in less than forty-five hours- even hurrying. With the second door, the path you take will lead you to the exit in less than three minutes.” 

“Push X for the short and easy path, or push on O for the long and difficult way. ” There is a long pause, then, “The short and easy path will not open until two of you have given up and bound yourself to the wall. They will have to stay here until time runs out.”

Leorio looks disgusted at the options. His hands are fists at his sides. “It’s a choice between the risk of having time run out or turning on each other for a chance to go on ahead.”

“No matter what I’ll press O. ” Gon says, mouth pressed in a firm line and eyes alight with determination, “The five of us came down here together and it’s only fair that we get out of here together too!”

“That’s a naive way to view things,” Killua mutters, glancing at the time ticking on his watch and back at the rest of them thoughtfully, “But we’ve got a decent amount of time, so I’ll side with you on this, Gon.”

“Forty-five hours!?” Leorio repeats in outrage, looking around at the rest of them, “Not trying to be a pessimist but do you really think we can get through the long way without wasting more time than that?”

“It took us close to eight hours to make it this far and this is beyond the halfway point,” Hanzo muses, eyes closed but expression oddly somber, “Theoretically, we have plenty of time to attempt the long path;  _ but _ there’s still the chance that we don’t make it to the end. ” His eyes snap open and the look in them is enough to send chills through all of their spines, “And _ that’s _ something I cannot allow to happen.”

“Well, I think that we should pick the longer way. We’re all friends here and I don’t think it’s fair to leave anyone behind.” Gon says, puffing out his cheeks and meeting all of their eyes stubbornly,  _ pleadingly, _ “We have plenty of time to go the long way don’t we?”

“There  _ are _ still sixty-three hours,” Kurapika begins haltingly, “but the long way isn’t assured to be an exact forty-five,” he holds his chin thoughtfully, “I suppose that even with the long way taking a minimum of forty-five hours, it still leaves us a decent amount of time as a grace period between now and when the phase comes to a close.”

“Choose,” the voice says, speaking through the unmoving lips of the stone statue, “Will you take the short and easy route, knowing that two of you must remain behind; or will you continue with the long and difficult route, knowing that it could cost all of you the chance of passing?”

A shared glance. 

A moment of pause- and they all make their choice.

* * *

 

  
**_20 HOURS GONE_ **

**_52 HOURS REMAINING_ **

 

Honestly, Clem likes to think that considering her circumstances she’s doing pretty well, although her version of ‘pretty well’ isn’t particularly detailed beyond the whole ‘ _ not being dead’ _ thing.

What Clementine wants right now is a nice hot bath, a nice plate of something to eat that doesn’t taste like the prison food it is; and somewhere to sleep that won’t leave her sore after waking. Instead, what she gets is her body riddled with scabs and bruises and blood she can’t wash off, prison food that resembles the questionable lunches they’d give out back in high school; and a hard ground in a room filled with a killer magician, the terrifying victim of acupuncture gone wrong, and an increasing number of strangers with communication issues. 

There are a lot of things that Clem wishes she could be doing instead of waiting for time to tick by but it’s not like she has much of choice. She doesn’t have her backpack, nor her phone since that was in her backpack as well. She doesn’t have any first-aid kits stuffed in her pockets, so trying to fix herself up is out of the question. And since all her snacks are with the rest of her stuff, Clem can’t even sit here and eat away her feelings. 

No matter how shitty things are at the moment, on the bright side she hasn’t died yet- which is  _ always  _ a big plus- and now that the room has filled up some; she has plenty of people to interact with that aren’t just Hisoka or his scary-ass friend, Gittarackur. Not that the other examinees are eager to chat with her considering she’s among the first to be in the room and that by the time other people started to filter into the room- she was playing Blackjack with Hisoka, the man that everyone knows as the creepy murder clown. The sight of the examinees freezing upon entering the room and seeing Hisoka smiling at them would probably be funnier if she wasn’t suffering for it now. 

No one has the balls to have a conversation with her and it makes her miss her friends all the more. 

“Being lonely isn’t shit in comparison to being dead,” she mutters to herself as she watches another examinee talk to someone else, which probably isn’t the healthiest way to cope with being avoided like the plague. “It still fucking sucks though.”

The wall is as uncomfortable as it has always been against her back. But the stone is cold and helps soothe the itching from her injuries healing, as slow as it’s taking. The gash on her side still throbs with pain whenever she moves the wrong way, the thin coating of her aura over it helping only to take the edge of the pain and to keep her from accidentally pulling it open again. 

Clem sighs and leans her head back. Her nails absentmindedly scratch at the flaking patches of dried blood on her arm- from where it seeped out between her fingers to run in thin streams down her forearm. 

_ Actually _ , now that she thinks about it, maybe the other examinee’s aversion to her has more to do with the fact that her hand is still stained with her blood from where she pressed it against her injury early; and less with the fact that she was playing cards with a serial killer. 

She wouldn’t want to approach someone who clearly had blood on their hands either. Literally. 

“Aww man, I’m an idiot,” she groans and tosses her head back in despair. It slams against the wall painfully. “Owwww…”

* * *

 

**_28 HOURS GONE_ **

**_44 HOURS REMAINING_ **

 

More examinees trickle into the chamber, voices a low murmur as some of them converse among themselves- auras mingling and buzzing against her senses. There are around eight of them in the room now. Although, Hisoka and Gittarackur remain the biggest predators. 

Numi has done the smart thing and has hidden up in the arching crevices of the chamber, fluttering back down when he wants food or affection. It’s an arrangement that Clem can’t be too bothered about, it’s better than having her fluffy Cat Owl pester the other examinees until they feel the urge to murder him. Although, Clem really wishes that she could cling to him again and burrow her face into his soft fur.

A yawn escapes her and Clem flops from her spot near the wall, onto a patch of ground that is probably just as uncomfortable as the rest of it. The other examinees watch her dramatic flopping onto the ground and her fingers twitch at the feeling of their eyes on her. 

Oh so  _ now _ they’re paying attention to her? Where the hell was all this willingness to acknowledge her existence all those hours she actually wanted it? 

Drowsiness has clung to her in the past hour or so, worsened by the lack of stimuli and the fact that her body has a lot of blood to replenish. She can’t bring herself to fall asleep though, even with the buffer of different auras between Gittarackur’s and her senses, just the thought brings a surge of unease racing up her spine. 

Clem knows that the only way to stay safe from the grinning, twitching,  _ staring _ man is to move closer to Hisoka- who doesn’t want to kill her yet and by hopeful definition means that he’ll protect her from his creepy friends. But the issue with that plan is that Clem doesn’t trust Hisoka, not all. 

He can act as innocent as he wants- an act that doesn’t fool anyone, really- but there’s no hiding the danger in each subtle movement, the power that is starkly clear even within the bindings of his skin. Even if Clem doesn’t say a word about why she’s drawing closer, Hisoka will know. Dangerous people  _ always _ seem to know what others are thinking and Hisoka seems like the type of danger that loves the games that can be played within the mind as well. 

Sure, a nap sounds nice! But there is always a price when it comes to making deals, unspoken or not, with devils. And compared to the risk of owing something to Hisoka, it’s better to stay awake as long as possible- maybe do some of that meditation Hanzo advised her to do- instead of falling asleep. 

Clem heaves a tired sigh, placing her forearm over her eyes. 

She would be less on edge if Hanzo was here. 

Hanzo with his cheerful personality and unwavering faith in her; with his shinobi training and boisterous voice that would make the hours of silence and solitude seem like nothing in comparison. Maybe even Gon would join in, eyes bright and smile wide; playing odd little games with Killua, who would pretend to be reluctant before eagerly joining in. Leorio would yell at her for getting hurt again. He would force her to show him her wounds so that he can make sure that she’s not gonna die from her injuries. All while Kurapika would chide her quietly for being so reckless once more. 

Clem sighs again, sprawled across the floor like a depressed rug. She wishes that the others would hurry up and for the examinees to stop looking at her. 

That way, she can be sad and miss her friends in peace. 

* * *

 

**_40 HOURS GONE_ **

**_32 HOURS REMAINING_ **

 

A loud whistle cuts through the air and with a small chirp, Numi swoops down from the vaulted ceilings. He lands on her outstretched arm with a small head tilt and blinks his wide eyes, bright and curious, in her direction. 

“Such a smart baby,” She coos, running gentle fingers through Numi’s feathers, “You're so smart huh, Numi?”

After coming to the realization that she won't be sleeping anytime soon and that she needs to let her injuries heal a bit before doing anything strenuous; Clem decided that maybe she should do something more productive than lay on the ground and mope.

Considering she's trying to limit her interactions with Hisoka, asking him whether he has a spare deck of cards is counterproductive. The other examinees are still giving her a wide berth, so Clem has settled on seeing if Numi responds to her calls. Cue a few hours of laying on the floor, reaching her arm out to the fluffy Cat Owl as he stares down at her from his niche in the ceiling. 

Numi seems to respond better to whistles than simply calling him over, a fact that makes her glad that she actually  _ knows _ how to whistle. She isn't the best at it or anything but maybe she'll get better the more she calls Numi to her. Having spent the past few hours teaching him to come when she calls, Clem is so  _ proud _ of her precious fluffball. 

Numi seems to be at the age in which complex commands are beyond him- but he can understand the easy things. Actually, Clem isn't sure of how old he is, just that he's not an adult or adolescent yet. He's probably closer to a toddler than anything else, that or a really young child. 

Regardless, Clementine has emotionally imprinted on the ball of fluff, so she'll eventually figure out just where his comprehensive levels are. Cat Owls are known to be highly adaptive and intelligent, if prone to having  _ colorful _ personalities. She’s excited to learn more about Numi, beyond the fact that he loves naps, bacon, and nesting in her hair. She wonders what other tricks she could teach Numi, running her fingers through the soft fur on his head thoughtfully. 

Well, she has plenty of time to figure it out. 

* * *

 

**_45 HOURS GONE_ **

**_27 HOURS REMAINING_ **

 

She hasn't slept since her nap all those hours ago. 

The thought of sleeping is a siren song, beckoning her forward until it's all she can do to force the topic from her mind. She's done all she can think of to keep herself amused and there are still hours, almost an entire day, to go before she can leave the entrapment of the tower.

Numi is back on his perch, hidden away somewhere out of sight of the other contestants. Clem fed him and cuddled him, but holding Numi’s warm body struck her with a wave of exhaustion that she hasn't been able to get rid of yet. The wound on her side has scabbed up and hasn't become infected- which is somewhat of a miracle considering how dirty and sweaty her skin is. 

She doesn't know how long it will take for the others to arrive either. She doesn't  _ want _ to sleep but running on little sleep in such dangerous exams can be deadly. 

Clem really doesn't want to die.

The presence of Hisoka and Gittarackur hasn't stopped anyone  _ else _ from sleeping, so maybe she'll be fine if she tries it herself? It's not like she has much to lose, well, not beside her life- which is a strong point of argument since, again, Clem  _ really _ doesn't want to die.

But she's so fucking  _ tired _ . 

The nap from earlier wasn't enough to leave her fully rested, not when she jerked awake so suddenly and when she's got a shit-ton of injuries to recover from. 

So, to sleep, or to stay awake?

Clem closes her eyes for a brief moment. From behind her shut lids, a kaleidoscope of colors swirl. They glide together, touching- but not melding together, each color standing out in its individual shade and varying in opaqueness. She’s not safe here-  _ the hollow ringing in her ears, the press of sweet and iron on her tongue _ \- makes that far too clear. 

But even her aura feels tired, twined around her bones and urging her to  _ rest _ \- even as it remains locked on to the stronger auras in the room with wary attention. So, Clem chooses an empty corner, one far from Hisoka and Gittarackur; that still leaves a distance from the other examinees and herself.

She pays no mind to the ache of her injuries, or to the gleaming eyes that flick to her location with focused intrigue. She keeps her aura loose around her, a safety net that will jolt her awake if anyone draws too close. She allows her eyes to flutter shut with a heavy sigh- then Clem  _ sleeps.  _

* * *

__

_ The twilight drips across the city in inky sheets. The darkness of the night settles between the towering buildings, surrounding the flickering street lights with shadows so thick they seem alive. There are no stars tonight. There is no moon. There are only the city lights and absolute darkness; only the silence of the city and the sound of her muffled breathing.  _

_ She is hiding.  _

_ Her aura is clamped tightly inside her, clenched in a tight ball, unable to escape through any of her pores. Hiding it- choking it, forcing it down- makes her stomach turn but there is nothing she can do lest it is used to find her. _

_ She is being hunted.  _

_ Here she has become the prey, senses cast open to feel the faintest of presences. The city is a playground. The city is a death trap.  _

_ Here the only thing keeping her from being consumed is luck. Luck which is bound to run out.  _

_ Luck which- as a presence approaches and her senses  _ **_explode_ ** _ with awareness- has done so already. _

_ And out of the darkness comes a creature. _

_ And with it comes the scent of blood.  _

_ Then, out of the darkness comes a monster and it opens its drooling jaws to speak.  _

_ “There you are,” Four eyes are locked on her and armored body splattered with gore, “I can’t wait to tear you apart,” it hisses and descends on her before she can move, gleaming teeth clamping around her throat and biting  _ **_downdowndown_ ** _ -  _

* * *

 

**_54 HOURS GONE_ **

**_18 HOURS REMAINING_ **

 

Clementine’s eyes snap open just as her aura spasms and  _ surges _ towards the person about to touch her. It thickens, creating a miasma around herself and the examinee now frozen in his place. Droplets of sweat run from her temples down the line of her throat, making fine hairs stick to her skin. The examinee isn’t much better. His eyes are wide, pupils tiny pinpricks of black in the brown of his iris. His hand is outstretched and trembling, close enough that her aura took offense- but far enough that there’s not really any current danger. Still, the dream she had is not pleasant- and waking up to her aura jolting to a perceived danger doesn’t do anything but put her further on edge. 

“ _What_ -” she pants, aura pressing down- **_downdowndown_** \- in the air between them; her aura coiling around what little she can feel of his own and threatening to shred through it. The blood is pumping through her veins fast enough to almost burn, to leave her breathless even after her dream has passed,“- _the_ _fuck do you think you’re doing?_ ”

Sweat beads on his forehead. He remains unmoving, watching her with cautious eyes. He weighs his words carefully before speaking, “You were having a nightmare and I came to wake you up.”

The pressure of her aura lessens but Clem doesn’t allow it to fade away completely. Not until she has cast her eyes around her surroundings quickly and taken note of where the actual dangers currently stand.

Not until she has set her eyes on the owner of the aura fizzing against her tongue in excited bubbles of bubble-gum and blood; and the owner of the echoey ringing in her ears.

Hisoka has a single playing card raised, as if about to add another tier to the house of cards before him- but does not move. His eyelids are at half-mast. Although, not even that can diminish the sheer  _ brilliance _ of his eyes. His gaze is locked onto her, the intensity enough to almost feel like a physical weight against her skin. His lips are slightly parted, seemingly in surprise, before his tongue darts out to run across them and the edges of his lips curl upward. 

Gittarackur is motionless. His eyes are on her as well; the dark inky pools not giving anything away. They’re a void filled with the ringing of his aura drilling straight into her but not allowing her any insight on what he may be thinking. He’s terrifying. But so far he’s doing nothing more than staring unblinkingly at her, fake smile on his face unwavering. (She tries to ignore the thought that even if he did move to attack her, she wouldn’t be able to do a single thing about it.)

The other examinees filling the cavernous room don’t seem to be paying Clem and the examinee close to her any extra attention, so she figures that only the few that are on guard and staring at her have any aura sensing capabilities. It’s a good thing her aura was contained to a small area around her; otherwise, she might have flooded the entire room with the weight of it. Clem looks away, back to the examinee still frozen in place as if she will attack him if he moves. 

“I can’t say that was the best idea,” She comments even as her aura calms. It slowly drifts closer to her skin and seeps through it, settling down inside her once more. “But I appreciate it.”

The man, #89, jerks away once he deems it safe enough to do so.

(He doesn’t say anything about her aura crushing down on him, about the potency of it as froze him in his very place. He doesn’t say anything about how it felt like the entire weight of the ocean was forcing itself down his throat, into his lungs where he could hardly breathe without choking. Or how, for a moment, all that existed was him and the girl in front of him, the shadows in her eyes and the invisible pressure that in a single agonized moment, nearly burrowed itself into him.)

He just nods, clenching his fists to hide the minute trembles in them before saying, “It’s no problem,” and hastily walking away. Clem watches him go, curling her arms around her knees and pressing her forehead against it all. The position pulls at the injury at her side, igniting a burn of pain in her nerves.

Clem ignores it. Her mind is on something else. The dream that is already dissipating. 

She’s had unpleasant dreams before. Usually, they’re something she can dismiss, pushing the thought of them aside because there is no point in worrying over abstract, confusing sequences that occur when she’s not even awake. But there have been times she’s written down things in her dream notebook that have put her on edge when she skims through the filled pages once more. Things that seems a little too close to events that have happened far after the dreams have faded from her mind. 

So, what the hell was that dream?

It is already fading from her memory and it will most likely be entirely lost to her without her notepad to scribble it on. But the impression of it-  _ hiding; running; it’s coming; oh god, oh god; it’s  _ **_here_ ** \- sends unease down to her very core. 

It’s not often that she dies in her dreams, after all.

She doesn’t know how long she sits there, breathing through the mix of pain and dread. 

It’s not until a familiar color appears behind her eyelids-  _ sapphire sparkling in the endless ocean, indigo of a morning sky as the sun climbs up the horizon-  _ that Clementine moves again. 

Her head jerks up and she stares at the stone door right across from her. The turquoise aura comes closer, bringing with it-  _ the tingle of pressing a battery to her tongue, the aftertaste of ozone lingering in her mouth-  _ other familiar auras-  _ sea-salt mingling with freshly fallen leaves, the musk of a forest on the edge of the sea- _ that makes Clem’s heart soar in happiness. 

Clem is on her feet before she's aware of it-  _ the tang of grass and steel and sweat mingling together, the delicate scent of blooming flower buds floating in ocean air-  _ startling some of the other examinees with her sudden movements even as she grins with delight-  _ a cold glide against her skin, smooth, steady, unbreakable.  _

Then, the stone doors open and through them, all of her friends step into the chamber.

A pressure that she hadn’t noticed eases from her chest. Her aura hums with pleasure at the sight of her friends fully intact and talking among themselves. Her smile is so wide it hurts her cheeks. 

After the shitty few days she’s had and the stress of the last few hours, seeing everyone again makes Clem so overjoyed that she tears up a little. Not that she lets anyone see it before she blinks the urge away. 

“I’m so glad that you’re all not dead,” she says, beaming. The group’s attention moves to her and as they all blink at the same moment, taking in the sight of her before registering who exactly they’re looking at.

“ _ Clem?” _ Hanzo whispers before lunging forward and wrapping her in a firm embrace. She basks in the warmth of the ninja’s arms, wrapping her own arms around him; and feeling the slightest bit overwhelmed at the first human contact she’s had in the last fifty hours. 

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” He breathes after a moment, pulling away from her to scan her from head to toe. The relieved smile on his face freezes and the corners of his eyes tighten with an emotion she can’t decipher. “ _ Are _ you alright, Clem?”

She blinks, not understanding just what he means until Killua lets out a long whistle at the sight of her. 

“Wow, you look like hell. What did you do, get the shit beaten out of you or something?” 

“Killua!” Gon scolds, hands on his hips but eyes worried as they look her over. He seems to hesitate before he asks, “Ne, Clem, what happened? You look really hurt.”

Clem winces. She thinks about what happened in the first few minutes of falling into the tower, the pain of Hisoka slamming her into the ground and  _ grinding _ her face into the stone; she thinks about blindly stumbling in the dark, crashing into solid walls with enough force to bruise; she thinks about the blade spinning in a graceful arch of shining steel, slicing through both air and flesh with ease.

So that’s the reason Hanzo looks so tense. She’s still covered in dirt, bruises, and her own blood.  

“Ah… Well,” she manages intelligently, “It’s… Uh… Kinda long story?”

“Long story!?” Leorio shrieks, an expression of absolute horror on his face, “What the hell happened to you?”

“This is more than a long story,” Kurapika says, voice grave but eyes steely, “One that I expect you to tell us while Leorio takes care of your injuries.”

“We left you for  _ less than seventy-two hours _ and this is the condition we find you in?” Leorio says, stepping forward without further prompting. He guides her to an empty side of the room, coincidentally the same one she was sitting in only moments prior and gestures for her to sit, unlatching his suitcase with his thumbs. “How many times am I going to have to fix you up before you learn to  _ not get hurt! _ ?”

Clem laughs nervously, wincing at the pain the movement brings her. “I swear it's not my fault this time?”

“Who did this to you, Clem?” Hanzo asks, voice soft but eyes still intense.

Her friends gather around her in a half-circle. They sit on the ground close to her and Clem swears that now that they’re here, this room doesn’t feel so oppressively empty anymore. 

Even Gittarackur’s unwavering stare and Hisoka’s unnerving gaze don’t feel too overwhelming anymore, although the cold feeling of Gittarackur’s eyes on her fades after a few moments- as if the man has lost interest in her now that there are others around her. 

Hanzo’s gaze flicks to where Hisoka still watches her and for a moment-  _ the ocean salt mingles with the perfume of cherry blossoms; fading until the sharp tang of steel is all the more prominent-  _ the scent of his aura grows more potent, laced with something dangerous. “Was it Hisoka?”

Clem chuckles, ignoring the warning glance Leorio throws her way as she jostles the injuries he has yet to examine, “Actually, as surprising as it sounds, no it wasn’t. I mean, I’m not gonna lie, I have a few more bruises thanks to him but he hasn’t tried to  _ actually _ kill me yet- which is nice.”

“Who’s blood is it?” Killua asks, peering at her intently, “It’s not all yours is it?”

“Well, kinda?” She answers with a nervous glance at her friends, seeing how Kurapika and Hanzo’s eyes darken at the words. “It’s not as bad as it looks, I swear!”

Leorio scoffs at her words. “You’re covered in blood that you just admitted mostly belongs to you. It looks pretty bad, Clem.” Still, his hands are gentle as they raise her shirt up to examine her injuries. He freezes at the sight of the deep gash in her side, an angry red around the edges and holding itself together with nothing but her aura and pure unadulterated spite at being injured, to begin with. 

Kurapika’s aura becomes  _ colder _ and Hanzo’s smells more like steel than anything else. Gon looks concerned even as he leans forward in morbid interest to peek closer at the gash; while Killua tilts his head at the wound but doesn’t look  _ too _ worried about it. 

“I’d like to hear what happened, Clementine,” Kurapika says with a deceptively calm voice.

“Like I said, it’s kind of a long story,” She begins, “I-”

“We have time.” Hanzo smoothly injects, an ominous little smile on his face. “We have  _ plenty  _ of time.”

“I… Uh…” Clem twitches as Leorio disinfects her injury, hissing between her teeth as he numbs it with a weird cream. She peeks at what Leorio is doing again, feeling her face drain of color when he pulls out a curved needle and what she can only guess is a special medical thread. “Oh shit, yeah I’m not gonna look at what you’re doing anymore.”

Kurapika pointedly clears her throat. 

“Well, everything went to shit after we got separated,” Clem starts, keeping her eyes on her friends before her instead of whatever the hell Leorio is up to. “Me and Numi ended up in this really dark room but there was already someone there and damn, you will not believe who it was-”

And as she recounts her tale of woe and adventure to her friends (leaving out the risque situations and the conflicting tangle of excitement and terror inside her at her interactions with Hisoka), Clementine can’t help but forget the dream that had haunted her before her friends had arrived- never writing it down and only remembering it, much,  _ much  _ later, when it’s far,  _ far _ too late. 

* * *

 

**_72 HOURS GONE_ **

**_0 HOURS REMAINING_ **

 

“Time is up,” A voice says over the intercom in the center of the ceiling, “The Third Phase of the exams has come to a close.” 

“It’s been seventy-two hours already?” Leorio mutters, blinking up at her blearily. They had all gathered up and decided to get some rest, taking turns keeping watch while the others slept. Clem- having just woken from sleeping when the other had arrived- volunteered to keep watch, so right now, she has the pleasure of watching everyone blink awake at the announcement that resounds through the room. 

Clementine stands up slowly, raising her arm for Numi to land on. “Did all of you sleep well?”

“It wasn’t bad,” Killua mutters, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with a yawn. 

Numi swoops down and instead of landing on Clem’s arm, decides to land right in Gon’s hair. 

The boy giggles and softly pats the Cat Owl. “Hello, Numi!”

The voice over the intercom speaks again, “Third round: number of participants who reached the goal is 25. Including one dead,” Clem blinks at the memory of the man that had stumbled in, only to collapse on the ground, dead where he stood. “When the doors open, please step through to reach the next Phase.”

“I’m curious as to what the next round will entail,” Kurapika murmurs thoughtfully, “It’s hard to guess.”

“Hopefully it will require us to show our skills instead of simply relying on luck,” Hanzo says, crossing his arms and nodding to himself, “We haven’t had the chance to show our true capabilities yet.”

“Luck is important to being a Hunter- but ability is as well,” Kurapika replies, “I’m sure we’ll be tested on that soon.” Moments after she speaks, the doors rumble, slowly sliding open. 

After three days without seeing the light of day, Clementine is in pain at seeing the light of the sun once again. She covers her eyes with her newly wrapped hands and shrieks dramatically, “My  _ eyes _ !”

She's not the only one expressing discomfort at the blinding glow of the sun, so she doesn't feel too self-conscious about her little outburst, although hers happens to be the loudest. 

It doesn’t stop her from rushing toward the door with the rest of the examinees, eager to escape from the grip of the stone tower around her and to feel the heat of the sun on her skin once more. Fresh air is something she had taken for granted until she had an absence of it- back in underground tunnels of the First Phase and here, in the prison of the Trick Tower. 

Clem takes in a deep breath and savors the feeling of the cool air filling her lungs. 

“Congratulations on making it this far,” a mohawked man says, clearly the Hunter in charge of the round they just escaped from. He stands before the edge of a cliff, the ocean and sky are spread wide behind him. “You only have two more trials. The 4th which will take place on Zevil Island, and the Final round.” 

In the distance, there is the silhouette of an island. There is a thick forest visible even from this far. 

Clem thinks that she can guess where Zevil Island is. 

“There will be a lottery,” he continues, eyes glinting sadistically behind his large spectacles, “And it will determine who will be the hunter and who will be the prey.” He snaps his fingers and a man appears from inside the tower, pushing along a small cart with a box resting atop it. 

“Inside the box, there are 24 numbered cards, these numbers are just the ones that were given to you at the beginning of the exams. You will each pick a card in the order that you arrived at the tower’s bottom. Now, will the first examinee step forward?”

Hisoka saunters over to the box. 

There is a sly smile on his lips. Clem expects something grand to happen when he sticks his hand in the box but he just draws his card and goes back to his previous spot. 

“Next!” Clem glances around awkwardly. That means she’s up next right? 

She walks to the box with even steps, trying to hide her mild anxiety at having everyone look at her as she reaches for a card. She counts to three before inserting her hand and pulling it out with a card in her grasp.

The entire thing is very anticlimactic.

Clem shrugs, peering at her card before moving to stand beside Hanzo once more. On the plastic, stamped in bold black ink is the number  **191** **_._ **

One by one each examinee pull out their own cards, staring at the number printed on it with curious eyes. 

“Everyone has a card now? Good. Your choice has been recorded so you’re free to do what you want with the card. The number on your card corresponds to the number you have picked, making them your target.” The examiner explains the rules of the round, listing off the point system in place and smiling at the surge of tension that his words bring forth. 

Now, which examinee was Number 191? 

She narrows her eyes, tossing searching glances at the examinees at her sides. It’s something that she has to figure out as part of this Phase. Especially since most of the examinees have removed their own badge and carefully stowed them away. She really hopes that she’s not the target of one of her friends.

Now, she needs a place to hide her badge that isn’t as obvious as her newly returned backpack. 

She freezes- an idea striking her. 

Clem grins and calls Numi over. 

She knows the  _ perfect _ hiding place.

* * *

 

**_DAY 1_ **

 

The ocean rocks the ferry gently. The waves are calm as the ship cuts through the dark blue of the open sea. The air is heavy with the tang of salt. They’re about to dock on Zevil Island.

Numi is off bothering Leorio or the kids, eagerly stretching his wings in the open air. Leorio has bandaged both her new injuries and the old, so Clem resembles more of a mummy than a human being at the moment. The huge bruise on her cheek from where Hisoka slammed her into the ground is still a bluish-purple, which in her opinion would be a nicer color if it wasn’t on her face. 

She had to get a neat row of twelve stitches on her side- that of which has been covered with another of Leorio’s weird ointments and another bandage. Plus, her back; while better than it was before, is suffering from having Hisoka’s bony-ass knee dig into it and mess up the healing that was going on there. 

She just has to avoid being hurt any more than she already is and she’ll be fine. 

Somehow that sounds like it’s easier said than done. 

“Clem,” Hanzo calls, moving closer to where she leans against the railings of the ship, peering at the deep blue ocean beneath her, “What number did you get?”

“Not yours, or anybody we know.”

“You don’t know who you’re supposed to hunt?”

Clem laughs, spinning around and smiling at Hanzo. “Nope!”

Hanzo fondly smiles back, “That doesn’t seem to bother you much.”

“Well, finding that out is gonna be the fun part isn’t it?”

A red-haired woman calls them all over after a moment. The ship has docked. 

“Hey, guys!  _ So,  _ you have one week exactly to gain your points and return here.” She beams, seemingly unbothered by the tense atmosphere of examinees wary of each other- fearing who will be hunting them through the island. “Your disembarkment will continue in the order you completed the previous phase. Now, the first candidate, you’re up!”

Hisoka rises from his seat on the ground. He glides across the deck; his feet as silent as the shadows stretching beneath him in the afternoon sun; and with a single glance in her direction, disappears into the trees- taking the flavor of his aura along with him. 

Just like that she’s up next. 

“Hey guys,” She says, turning to grin at her friends, “Good luck out there. Erm, if you see me about to die, please give me a hand won’t you? I'll do the same for you, pinky promise.” 

They bid each other farewells, promising to be careful and to keep an eye out for each other. 

Then, with a sigh and thrown, “See ya later!” Clementine enters the treeline. 

The forest is lively around her. Birds sing through the humid air, insects buzz from amidst the lush foliage, and from a distance, the ocean waves crash bodily against the rocky shore. She has no idea who she’s even hunting. Plus, she’s not sure if she’s supposed to let the person following her know that  _ she  _ knows they’re there. 

Time to explore for a few hours and find a place to establish her base. She’ll give her followers the benefit of the doubt. But she will remain wary of them until they make a move.

And once the sun has gone down and she has rested, Clementine- like her parents before her- will  _ hunt.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this chapter, don't forget to tell me what you think! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it- until next time! C;


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